


The New World Order

by negickapologist (neganstonguething)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, M/M, Requests, Slow Burn, canon-divergent, early negan, most character deaths follow canon but just in case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-09-26 19:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 63,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9918305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganstonguething/pseuds/negickapologist
Summary: Canon-Divergent AU: Negan and his Saviors find the Greene farm and decide that it's useful to them. Rick's patience, as per usual, is tested heavily.  Also known as: What Happens If Negan Shows Up Early.Requested by anonymous on tumblr: "Prompt! I’d be very grateful if you made s1-2 Rick, when he was relatively innocent, meeting current Negan, ignoring matters such as time or how Rick’s survived without toughening up. If you felt like it, maybe Negan messing a lil bit with Shane cause he feels tension between him and Rick, and of course Rick’s his favorite? Please and thank you!"





	1. Invaded

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was a request: "Prompt! I’d be very grateful if you made s1-2 Rick, when he was relatively innocent, meeting current Negan, ignoring matters such as time or how Rick’s survived without toughening up. If you felt like it, maybe Negan messing a lil bit with Shane cause he feels tension between him and Rick, and of course Rick’s his favorite? Please and thank you!"
> 
> My brain eventually decided it needed to be a chaptered fic, and from what I've come up with in my head so far, it's probably going to be one of the longest chaptered fics I've ever written.
> 
> The setting is about midway through Season 2, right after Rick and Glenn go to retrieve Hershel from the bar and bring Randall back with them. 
> 
> There are a TON of elements that will stay canon, though the way things happen around said canon elements are going to be different with Negan involved. It's canon-divergent in the fact that Negan and the Saviors show up way early. Negan's 'home base' of sorts is still up north, but he branches out a LOT in this for the sake of pestering Rick and his gang regularly.
> 
> I'm super excited about this fic, and I sure hope you guys are too!

It's like a storm has rolled in over the Greene farm. When Rick arrives in the truck, Hershel and Glenn and their injured accomplice with him, his chest clenches. He can feel the tension from Hershel next to him, and hear Glenn cursing softly under his breath.

The only word Rick can think of to describe the situation is 'invaded'. The farm has been outright _invaded_. Vehicles ranging from trucks to SUVs to eighteen-wheelers are all lined up along the gravel leading toward Hershel's farm house, and Rick's blood feels like ice in his veins. For how long had they been trying to keep this place a secret?

There are dozens of people lined up outside of the house, just in front of the stairs leading up to the porch, and they're all heavily-armed. Rick sees assault rifles, shotguns, revolvers...the works. They all stare down at their new arrivals with cold eyes as said arrivals approach the house.

Rick is the first to stop in front of them. As he walks up, he can see some of his own people scattered along the yard. Andrea stands with her arms crossed over her chest, with Shane next to her, his hands resting on his belt. Neither of them look very impressed with their visitors. Across the yard, on the other side of the porch, are T-Dog and Dale, uncertainty scribbled across their faces like a child's handwriting on a wall. Carol, Jimmy, and Carl are all standing outside of the RV, and Rick can see from here that his son looks irritated.

Closer inspection tells him why. Daryl's been pinned down onto his knees by two of the armed men, one of them pointing an assault rifle to his head. He's not far from the RV, and from the looks of it, Jimmy's trying to keep Carl from doing anything rash.

Either way, Rick decides that he has to trust that the others have everything in check, and stops just before the porch steps and the many people guarding it. A small, dark-skinned woman scans his form up and down.

“Care to tell me what's goin' on?” Rick questions. He's going for 'unimpressed', but even he can hear the apprehension in his own voice. The last time he'd been faced up against this many people, they had been undead and unarmed. Walkers, deadly as they are, are nothing compared to humans. Especially as of late, Rick's growing more and more aware of that fact. And with his wife nowhere to be seen, he's understandably concerned.

“You Hershel?” The woman, despite being smaller than Rick, doesn't back down.

“No, I'm—“ Rick starts, but Hershel cuts him off.

“I am. Where are my daughters?” From the get-go, Hershel normally looks like a good, earnest person. But now that he feels threatened, Rick can see even him bristling. He makes the mental observation that he and Hershel share that dedication to family in common. It's probably why they've butted heads on this whole issue regarding whether he and his people can stay on the farm or not.

“Upstairs, with Negan.” The woman responds. “He's been waiting for you. Wants to speak to the guy in charge.”

Hershel nods and brushes past the girl as she and a man next to her move out of the way for him. When Rick and Glenn try to join them, however, the two guards stop them short.

“No way.” The woman says. “Not you two—just the old guy.”

“Now, hold on just a minute.” Hershel whips around.

Rick's eyes are narrowed on those of the feisty little guard before him, but he relents. “No...Hershel, it's fine.”

“No, it ain't.” Hershel retorts almost immediately. His voice is calm, but there's a venom oozing from underneath the weight of their situation and coming out in his words. “I have yet to see neither hide nor hair of Rick here's wife, which makes me think she's up here with my daughters. You can either let him and Glenn through, or I can sit here and make your head guy wait longer.”

“You don't want to do that.” The male guard suggests, eyebrows raised. “He's up there with your daughters, remember?”

“I'm aware of that.” Hershel says, still somehow calm. “But whatever questions your guy has, I'm gonna need Rick with me to answer them, and Glenn's got every right to see that my daughter is safe, too.”

The woman narrows her eyes, but shuffles aside.

The 'visitors' are everywhere in the house. Rick looks about the area as they pass through to the stairs, and he can see them in the kitchen, the living room, the halls, just rooting through everything. One of them admires a picture on the wall, while another snacks away on an apple.

Upstairs, they follow the voices coming from what Rick recognizes to be Beth's room, and when they step inside, they're met with a sight that damn near has all three of them lunging in to the rescue.

Beth is lying on the bed, her eyes wide open. Next to her stands a man in a leather jacket, with his short black hair slicked back. He's leaning against the post nearest Beth's head, with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire dangling from his free hand. On his lips is a smirk that oozes amusement over the entire situation.

Maggie is on her knees a couple of yards from the scene, pushed down by a scar-faced man with a gun pointed to her head, and Lori is watching fearfully from near the window, comforting a sobbing Patricia.

“Daddy—!” Maggie chokes from her spot on the floor, though she doesn't move. The scarred man's grip seems to keep her rooted to the ground.

“You let go of my daughter.” Hershel growls, voice sharp in a way Rick has never heard, and it doesn't lighten as he turns his attention from the scarred guy to the one with the bat. “What did you do to Beth!?” He poses a very good question, as the last time Rick saw Beth, she was helping around the house. Now, lying on that bed, she looks like a body in a funeral home. Her blue eyes seem to stare up through the ceiling, as if looking up into the heavens. If not for the color still in her face, Rick would think she's dead.

The man at the head of the bed grins widely, and Rick notices that while the gesture has a certain charm to it, it bears the weight of wickedness, too. Or maybe that weight comes from all the gun metal surrounding them.

“Put your claws back in, Grandpa.” The man responds, nodding to Beth. “The girl was like this when I fucking got here.”

Rick follows Hershel's gaze to Maggie, who nods shakily. Patricia and Lori follow suit soon, and then Hershel is looking back to the man beside Beth once more.

“Dunno what the hell has her all frozen up like this, but you can rest assured that your kid's not dead. I can fucking see her breathing from all the way over here.”

“We think it's stress.” Patricia manages, and another man with a handlebar mustache shoots her a firm look that shuts her up almost instantly. But it's enough that Hershel can rest assured his children are alright, after which he brings his focus to the man in charge.

“What do you want?” Hershel demands. “Not every day someone brings a small army in to a _house_ , even during the end of the world.”

The man pushes back away from the bed and takes a couple steps toward Hershel. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow your shit down, old man. We haven't even gotten to the introductions, yet!” Apparently, his own voice excites him, because he leans backward just slightly, knees bending barely, before he rights himself and lets out a laugh.

“You know my name.” Hershel growls. “Your soldiers requested me _by_ name.” Rick infers that this guy managed to get Hershel's name from one of the people already at the farm. Not hard to get a name out of someone when you're pointing a gun at them, after all.

“So you're Hershel then, eh?” He asks. “Good, that gets one person out of the way. And you two are...?”

“...Glenn.” Rick turns his head to look at Glenn, who's complexion has gone a little pale. He can practically see the younger man wanting to leap across the room and knock the scarred guy away from Maggie from here.

Either way, Rick brings his focus back to the guy with the baseball bat. He freezes when he sees the sharp hazel eyes locked on his own. “Rick Grimes.” He manages.

“Damn, Rick. You're pretty as _shit_.”

Rick squints, because he honestly can't tell whether that's a compliment or an insult. Last he checked, shit wasn't all that pretty, but he also imagines this guy doesn't have the most beautiful vocabulary, going by all the things he's said so far.

“I'm Negan.” The man finally announces, and Rick watches almost in slow motion as the bat in his hand is raised and twirled a few times. “And I want to be your friend.”

Everyone exchanges glances. From Rick to Glenn, to Hershel, and from Maggie to Lori and Patricia. None of them are sure how to take this Negan's way of speaking.

“...Maybe I've been away from civilization too long,” Hershel responds, ignoring the look of caution from his oldest daughter, “but this don't exactly seem like the way a friend treats another friend's people.”

Negan bursts out laughing, before pointing with the tip of his bat toward Hershel. Everyone tenses, and Rick can almost feel the air being sucked out of the room. “Look at this poor, humorless fuck! Simon, are you hearing this guy!?”

“I sure am.” The guy with the mustache smirks in a way that shows almost all his teeth.

“I mean, _in his defense_ ,” Negan continues, “I've got his farm basically held fucking hostage and his people in dick-sucking formation provided the need arises, but _come on_.” He lowers the bat and slides in close, invading Hershel's personal space. Hershel tries his best to glare at the man from his odd position of _too damned close_. “At least try to make this whole thing enjoyable for the both of us. I'm not into all that one-sided, rapey bullshit.”

“You could start by tellin' us what you want first.” Rick interjects, desperate to help Hershel somehow. Despite some of the things he's said to the older man over the past few days, he really does like the guy, and appreciates everything he's done for him and his group. “Consent, right?”

Negan bares his teeth in another devilish grin. “Right, Rick. I like the way you think.” His tongue slides out to wet his lips, before he seemingly finally decides to get to the point. Leaning sideways, he props his bat on the ground and bears his weight on it. “See, here's the dealio, squealios. All these people here? Guys in this room helping me? Ones outside? Everyone who came along with me here..they're _all_ Negan. They work for me. And there are more of us than you can _imagine_ back home.” He nods to Hershel. “You say 'small army', but if you saw what I really have under my belt, you'd be shitting yourself a whole new fucking carpet. That means that all of you poor fuckers answer to me right now.”

Negan's expression is suddenly serious—serious in a way that even draws the attention of his own men. Rick turns his head, meets Hershel's gaze, and then focuses back on Negan as he continues speaking.

“We went on a little field trip—been working on an expansion project. But it turns out there's jack fucking _shit_ out here, save for your little farm.” Negan's eyes lock on Hershel's yet again. “And that's where you come in. This place sucks as a branch for our growing franchise, but you'd work fucking miracles in the vein of supplies. So, you're gonna work for me.”

Rick can practically hear Hershel's blood boiling, and he feels for him. Ever since Rick showed up with the injured Carl in his arms, Hershel has had the rules of his farm repeatedly broken, be it by the unruly Shane or lies from his own children. His view on humanity and the disease that has plagued it was recently shattered. And now, some random group of people have managed to locate his farm in the middle of nowhere and are trying to 'negotiate' with him about the use of it? Of course he's had enough.

“Don't fucking look at me like that.” Negan steels all of a sudden. “I haven't even told you the conditions and you're already looking at me like I pissed in your kitchen sink, and I'm not about to deal with that.” He stands up straight, backing up enough that he can raise his bat to Hershel's face once more. “I guess it's about time I introduced you unworthy shitheads to Lucille.” He nods down to the bat. “She's my thirsty girl, and she turns into a goddamn _vampire_ when assholes like you look or talk at me the way you've been since you got here. I don't care to feed her right now, though—it's unseemly to do so when we're working so hard on first impressions—so I'd just suggest you listen and then give me the affirmative.”

Rick doesn't know this guy, but he somehow doesn't have a doubt in his mind that this bat really could be put to use. The way Negan holds it, it's like he's been waving it around for years. And going by his language and the erratic shifting in his tone, Rick also imagines he's pretty unpredictable with it.

He speaks up this time. “...So, by workin' for you, what exactly are we supposed to do?”

Negan pauses, and the silence that follows is a tense one. Rick isn't sure what's going to happen next. This man makes him so incredibly nervous that it's the most he can do to stand rooted to his spot, hand on the holstered gun on his hip.

But eventually, the guy speaks up. He lowers the aforementioned Lucille and shoots Rick a very level stare. “Half your shit is mine, now.” He steps away from Hershel and moves toward Rick this time, stopping a couple feet in front of him. “My men and I are going to find a place to hole up here, and we're going to show up weekly for half of everything you have.”

“And what do we get in return?” Lori speaks up, and Rick briefly admires her resolve, before he wishes she'd worry about being brave in a less dangerous situation, because the guy named Simon suddenly has his gun pointed at her.

“Not dead, that's what.” Simon answers, but he stops when Negan raises a hand and clicks his tongue, as if trying to silence his subordinate.

“We'll help keep the general area around here undead-free.” Negan adds. “Benefits us, because your asses don't go and get killed that way, which means more shit for me.”

Rick's gaze never once leaves Negan's, even as he continues speaking. For some reason, the guy has focused in on him, even though Hershel is really the one to make the call here. It's probably more because Negan isn't giving him a choice, though. “And you're going to let us board here for a few nights while we look for a place to start our newest franchise.” He nods out the window. “I see _plenty_ of parking.”

Hershel scowls. “And you leave as soon as you find a place—and that's it.”

“Complete with a weekly dose of half your shit, yeah.” Negan agrees. He's still standing in front of Rick, though his gaze has shifted to Hershel.

“And if we can't provide?” Rick adds.

Negan doesn't answer with words. Instead, he raises Lucille to the air right beside Rick's head, just barely swings her forward without making contact, and makes a loud, hollow clicking noise with his tongue. Afterward, he backs away. “You don't get to say no, guys. This isn't a vote.”

“Your people sleep outside, in their vehicles.” Hershel orders.

“We were planning on it.” Negan responds, and Rick notices how he relaxes and actually just _smiles_ for a second. “I'm actually a pretty reasonable motherfucker, so long as you're willing to cooperate with me.”

And like that, Negan and his accomplices are gone through the doorway. Rick and Hershel and Glenn stand there, silent, as they listen to the heavy footsteps of boots moving down the stairs. The front door opens and shuts multiple times, and then Glenn rushes to the window, peering outside.

“They're all outside. Some of them are getting in their cars.” He announces, and Rick nods.

“Probably off lookin' for that place that Negan guy was talkin' about. For expansion or whatever.”

It's like the air returns to the room. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief, and then Maggie rushes to Beth's side.

“Is she alright?” Rick watches as Hershel moves in to check his youngest daughter's pulse.

“For now.” Maggie answers. “She collapsed while you were gone.” There's a hint of bitterness to her voice, and her next words are spoken through gritted teeth. “This is why you don't run off without tellin' us where you're goin'.”

Rick moves to embrace his wife, kissing the top of her head. When he pulls back, Lori speaks up.

“So, what're we gonna do?”

“Just what he said.” Rick answers, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “We don't have much of a choice. He's got men—plenty of 'em. They've got guns. We do what it takes to keep our people _alive_ , and then we work on a solution later.”

“They're going to take half of everything.” Glenn comments. “Can we afford that?”

“No,” Hershel shakes his head, standing up and giving the chair beside the bed to Maggie, “we can't. But Rick's right. We do what this man—Negan—says, until we figure somethin' else out. Now, we've been procrastinatin' long enough.” He rounds on Patricia. “Prepare the shed for surgery—I have a man in the truck who could be dead by now.”

 


	2. Candy and Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dust is still settling around Negan's sudden intrusion and the threat of his Saviors, while the survivors still have Randall to address as well. Rick's trying his best to be the leader, but he's only one person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Between requests, my job, and my other chaptered fic, I'm quite the busy writer! I'm enjoying the hell out of it, though.
> 
> This might as well be a second prologue, since the groundwork for the fic is still being placed. But I'm still decently proud of it. Hope you guys like it!

The dust hasn't really settled around the situation, but the survivors have no choice but to keep going. After Patricia, Glenn, and Hershel depart the room, Rick and Lori leave Maggie with Beth. They beeline downstairs and out of the building, where some of Negan's trucks are pulling away. Rick notices that more than half of them stay parked in the driveway, though only a couple of them are bothering to stand guard now. Like Rick, they know their numbers far outweigh the ones of the farm's residents.

Rick feels another pang of guilt for Hershel, who hadn't signed up for any of this. Otis shooting Carl had been an accident, but it had snowballed into this. Rick isn't sure how Negan's gang happened upon the farm, but a part of him can't shake the suspicion that their travels outward might have led them here. And if that's the case, Rick owes him even more.

But for now, he and Lori rush out to the RV, where Lori drops to her knees and hugs Carl tight. Rick watches, giving his son a nod, as Lori checks the boy out for injury.

“Did they hurt you any?” She questions, eyes scanning every inch of her son.

Carl shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. Just Daryl, because he kept trying to fight them.”

Rick and Lori cast a glance over to Daryl, who indeed sports a nice shiner on his left cheek. Rick thinks it looks an awful lot like the butt of a gun. Either way, Daryl's subdued enough and is now starting out to his little hideout further back toward the woods. Rick will take glaring daggers from a distance over getting himself (and potentially others) killed by being obnoxious.

“What about you?” Lori stands up and moves toward her husband. As she looks him over, Rick can see Shane approaching. Their eyes meet, and neither of them speak. There's a tense silence that Rick hasn't figured out how to interpret, yet.

“I'm alright. Nothin' happened to me.” Rick finally addresses his wife, brow furrowing down in concern. He sees a split in Lori's lip, as well as a bruise up by her forehead and on her arm. “What about you? You look like hell.”

“She was in a car accident.” Shane responds. “Went lookin' for you, I brought her back.”

“Thanks.” Rick answers curtly, mostly because he can tell his friend is itching to say something else.

“So what'd you say to that asshole?” He questions, moving to stand by Lori. “Looks like you made him leave, but his goons stayed.”

Rick sighs, scratching at his forehead with his thumb. “...He's not goin' anywhere. He goes by Negan, and he's got us in a...real tough situation right now.”

“Man, what the hell's that supposed to mean?” Of _course_ that pisses Shane off. No big surprise there, Rick didn't go in with his guns blazing and just kill everyone. He and Shane have been awkwardly dancing around the eggshells that is the growing tension between them for quite some time. It's not a shock to Rick that he's not bothering to await an explanation before losing his temper. Either way, he clenches his jaw as the other man continues speaking. “He's got our family on the line, Rick. Our _family_.”

“You think I don't know that?” Rick snarls back in response. “I'm doin' the best I can, Shane.”

“Yeah man, sure you are.” Shane about-faces and storms back toward Hershel's home. “I'm callin' a meeting. Not even gonna bother to ask about _that guy_.” A gesture off to the side shows Glenn and Hershel carrying a sweaty, unconscious man who doesn't look older than his early twenties out of a truck and to safety.

“...Who _is_ that?” Lori questions, watching the display.

“We found him outside of the bar.” Rick responds. “He would've died if we hadn't taken him with us.” Just thinking about the guy with his leg stuck on one of the prongs of that fence, waiting for walkers to come and just pick him apart...Rick just doesn't have it in him to leave him like that. Guy deserves a fighting chance.

Either way, he nods for Lori to follow him after Shane, leaving Carl at the RV. They'd best just get this meeting over with.

\- - - - -

Despite Shane having been the one to call the meeting, he gives the speaking role to Rick. Introduces him by telling the others Rick's been off 'making friends' during his absence. Afterward, he retires to the side of the dining room, arms crossed, just waiting for what Rick has to say.

Rick brushes off Shane's frustration for now and starts with the situation he'd faced upstairs. “For those of you who weren't inside a little while ago, the guy's name is Negan. He wants us to work for him.” He sees the many different looks of confusion on the vast array of different faces. Nobody speaks yet, though. They're all waiting for Rick to continue. “He threatened Hershel and me with a lot of lives. Says he's the leader of a group he calls the Saviors. They're the people holdin' us at gunpoint right now.”

“Hope you told the sumbitch to fuck off.” Daryl growls. “We don't work for _nobody_.”

“Does it look like he told him to fuck off?” Andrea deadpans.

“Couldn't.” Rick answers to both of them. “He had a guy with a gun at the back of Maggie's head and was standin' right next to Beth, wavin' his baseball bat around. Point is, we don't have a choice. We're gonna have to give him what he wants until we can figure somethin' else out.”

“Wanna tell us what exactly we're doin'?” T-Dog speaks up, frowning.

Rick nods. “Negan's tryin' to find a place to stay. Until he does, he's with us. And once he does, he wants half of everything we produce, once a week.”

“What the hell, man—“ Shane's angry all over again. “That's _our_ shit.”

Rick sighs. “...It's not, now. Some of it, at least.”

“What's Hershel think about all of this?” Dale pipes up from his spot sitting at the table. “It hardly sounds like something we can pull off—we've got a lot of mouths to feed, here.”

“We don't have much of a choice.” Hershel's voice echoes from the room as he steps inside, drying his hands with a cloth. Rick assumes he's finished his surgery on the man they'd brought home with them. “This Negan...he let us know exactly where he stands. And if we can get out of this with our people survivin', then that's how we do it. I trust Rick's judgment on this.”

Rick notices a moment where Shane's dark eyes meet Hershel's blue ones and the air in the dining room thickens. Their situation is a tough one. Rick understands both sides, even if he's quick to side with Hershel, as this is his farm and the rules are his to make. But he knows it wasn't right to keep the walkers in the barn, and he knows that Hershel's views regarding the walkers are(or were, maybe—Rick hasn't had time to find out if they've changed) grossly misguided.

He gets that, and he knows Shane's been right so far about almost everything they've needed to do. In his own rough, aggressive way, Shane has been looking out for the group. But Hershel's just been trying to live his life, and Rick understands putting his family before the rest of the group. Beggars can't be choosers, after all. Hershel has been more than accommodating to them, especially considering the circumstances.

It's a complicated ordeal, and when Hershel mentions he trusts Rick's judgment, Rick feels a mixture of appreciation and disappointment over the fact. He knows he needs to be in charge and do whatever it takes to protect his people, but he will forever be stuck in the position of bracing himself for the impact of _somebody_ not liking what he decides to do.

Currently, that somebody is Shane, and that's not a good somebody to have against you. Shane's Rick's best friend. He _knows_ how hard-headed the guy can be. But simply knowing isn't doing anything about the situation. He can't get past the feeling that the rift between himself and Shane is going to cause some serious problems—another issue he needs to address quickly.

But for now, Rick focuses on the task at hand.

“How's Randall?” He asks, breaking the tension between Hershel and Shane.

Hershel sighs and shakes his head. “I did the best I could. It's gonna be a week before he'll be on his feet again.”

“Alright.” Rick answers. “And when he is, we'll take him out to the main road and send him on his way.”

He can feel Shane's look of disbelief fixed on him. “Any idea how stupid that sounds? What if he finds his people? Leads 'em back here? What if he's part of this _Negan_ group?”

Rick sighs yet again. “If he was part of the Saviors, don't you think Negan himself would have made sure we took care of him? Besides, he was blindfolded the whole way here. We take him out a ways, he's not gonna be able to find his way back.”

“And if he does?” Shane narrows his eyes. “What then? We'll be up shit creek, man, that's what.”

“What do _you_ want me to do, then?” Rick growls back. “Put a bullet in his head, after all this?”

“Sure sounds safer to me.” Next to Shane, Rick can see Andrea silently agreeing. Yet again, he sees Shane's point—a very valid one. But they're too little too late now, and even if a gunshot to the head is a far better way to go than to be eaten alive by walkers, it still doesn't sit right with him.

“What happens after you let him go?” Andrea finally pipes up. “You're gonna feed him to the walkers by sending him out there.”

“Don't waste your breath.” Shane growls, frustrated. “They're not listenin'. His people could be out lookin' for him right now, and they wouldn't hear it.”

Rick doesn't bother containing his irritation, now. His voice raises as he snaps back to Shane's comment. “They left him out there for dead. _No one_ is looking.”

“Alright, okay.” Shane raises both hands in mock surrender, then starts out of the dining room. “You know what? I'm gonna go get him some flowers and candy. While I'm at it, I'll make sure to find enough for all the assholes out there _pointin' guns at us_.”

Hershel spins, following Shane with his eyes as he crosses the room. “You know, we haven't even dealt with what you did at my barn the other day.” His words effectively freeze Shane to the spot, and as he slowly turns to look at Hershel, the older man continues. “Now, let me make myself perfectly clear—this is my farm. I didn't want you here, but Rick talked me into lettin' you stay. Just because he did doesn't mean I have to like it. So for your sake, and for Rick's, and for _mine_ , just do us all a favor and keep your mouth shut.”

There's a part of Rick who actually feels bad for Shane. It's not like he's actually trying to be difficult or abrasive or anything of that nature. Shane actually believes that he's right, and even though he's being an asshole about it, Rick appreciates it. He figures he's going to have to sit down and have a long talk with the guy later.

For now, though, Shane just shakes his head, turns, and leaves.

“Look,” Rick starts, attempting to calm Hershel down, “we're not gonna do anything about it today, so let's just cool off.” As Andrea darts out the door after Shane and everyone else disperses, Hershel offers him a curt nod, and then releases a sigh.

“For the record,” Hershel responds, once it's just the two of them and Lori, “I'm with you on this. About Negan. We can't afford to fight back just yet. But that means we'll need the help of you and your people more now than ever.”

Rick knows there's been a heavy struggle between himself and Hershel regarding his people staying here on the farm, but the way Hershel talks, it sounds like he's backing down on that struggle right now, in favor of making sure they have enough manpower to sate Negan's request. Honestly, that's all Rick needs to hear.

“We'll do whatever you need. We got enough hands and we're not searchin' for Sophia anymore,” Rick hesitates when the image of that little girl shuffling out of the barn fills his mind, but continues soon enough, “so you just tell us what you need.”

“We're gonna have to expand the garden—expand crops. Huntin' is gonna have to be a multi-person job.” Hershel says simply. “We'll have to fan out further and at the same time avoid attractin' any more people. This ain't a hotel.” He sighs. “You talk with your people and decide who does what. We'll go from there.”

“Yeah.” Rick nods. “Thanks, Hershel.”

“We're a team, now.” Hershel seems to be realizing this more than explaining it. “We're gonna have to work together.”

“That won't be a problem.” Rick confirms.

\- - - - -

Rick feels uneasy. He and his wife have been conversing from inside their tent. By now, Lori has retired out of the tent, but she's left a lot to think about in her wake. She's got it in her head that Shane thinks he's meant to be with her, and that she's afraid he'll do whatever it takes to make that happen. She thinks he killed Otis, and she's actually given Rick good reason to believe she's right.

The point is, she thinks Shane's dangerous, and while Rick still feels he's doing it for those he loves, he knows at the same time that Lori's suspicions aren't completely unfounded.

The Negan situation is pretty much set in stone. Rick takes some relief in knowing that Lori is on his side with that. He's getting changed as he debates who he's going to talk to first about helping out more around the farm.

They decide to keep Randall in the shed until he can recover, which gives them give or take a week to focus on distributing work to people. Carol and Lori are left to tend to the things they've been working on as a group—laundry and cooking goes to them. Glenn and T-Dog start on expanding the garden, while Dale and Andrea take shifts keeping watch. Rick, Shane, and Daryl are tasked with hunting. Daryl takes a lot of persuasion, but Rick somehow manages to push through that self-sufficient demeanor and get his help.

Carl is allowed to help around the farm in different areas, but Rick decides to keep him out of the woods for now. He's not ready for another situation like the one with Otis, and with the Saviors swarming around like flies on a carcass, Rick knows another shot won't just wound him.

Hershel's already got his family on the other tasks around the farm, so aside from everyone having to pitch in a little more than usual, they've just about got everything squared away. Even though the situation sucks and nobody is happy about it, Rick actually feels like they can pull this off.

\- - - - -

Some time late at night, the roar of truck engines pulls Rick out of his sleep. He rouses quickly and whispers for Carl and Lori to stay in the tent. As he climbs out, shrugging a white T-shirt on and slipping into his pants, he allows his eyes to adjust to the scenery around him.

Normally, it's pitch black out, save for the lights in Hershel's home. But the foggy darkness is permeated right now by the obnoxious glare of the many vehicles' headlights. Fog and gravel dust dance around in the beams, and Rick feels the urge to cough. He can make out the faint silhouettes of others crawling out of their tents, so he stretches a hand out, silently motioning for them to be still.

With a loud squeak, the biggest truck's passenger side door swings open, and a painfully-familiar man steps out into the glare of the headlights. It's hard to see his face in the weird contrast between dark and light, but Rick recognizes him instantly in how showy his movements are, and in the way he swings that damned bat around.

“Any luck findin' a place?” Rick asks, not bothering to stave off the sleepy growl in his voice. Negan already knows that nobody's happy about this arrangement, so there's no point in pretending.

“Trying to get rid of me already?” It haunts Rick, just how visible the gleam in Negan's teeth is against the shadows the headlights cast around his form. He looks like the Cheshire Cat. “Fuck if I'm not wounded now, Rick.” His left hand finds his chest and he leans backward just slightly, as if imitating being stabbed in the chest. “Here I was, thinking we were gonna have us a nice little sleepover! Fooled me.”

All but one set of headlights cut off, and Negan's form is completely visible now. He takes a few steps toward Rick. “But you know how the old saying goes: Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice...I don't have to keep saying it, do I?”

Rick shakes his head. “What do you want?”

He swallows nervously when he sees Negan's eyebrows raise high up on his forehead. Rick's only talked to this guy once before now, and he already knows that it's the subtleties you should be afraid of with him. When Negan's quiet is when he's thinking about what to do. And Rick knows he's not out of the water until he shows that he can deliver.

Then again, these guys want food and shit, right? Surely, they wouldn't kill off the people who are going to be providing to them. Rick realizes at that moment that he isn't one hundred percent clear on Negan's angle just yet.

“Last I fucking recalled, Rick...” Negan starts, and he's suddenly very close. Rick can almost feel the guy's body heat on his own. “You agreed that my Saviors and I would be staying here for a while. I'll warn you right now that we don't take kindly to changes of heart.”

Rick doesn't move. He just looks up and meets Negan's gaze with his own. He likes the way he seems to hold this man's focus. It gives him a sense of control. “Never said we had a change of heart.” He sighs. “But you're lookin' at me like you've got somethin' to say.”

Rick's words are straightforward, because he frankly just wants to get right to the point and get back to his family. He doesn't know if anyone's going to end up killed tonight, but it's damn well not going to be Lori or Carl. No way in Hell. So understandably, he wants to get back to them, to protect them.

Negan inhales slowly, and the unreadable expression on his face quickly fades as that grin returns to his lips. “...Good answer. And, fuck, I suppose I owe you a little more detail about what's going to happen over the course of the next...I dunno...indefinite period of time. So, where do we go to talk?”

Rick looks about the area. The people he's asked to stay put are doing so for the most part. Some have retreated back to their tents, but Dale and Shane still have their heads poked out of the RV and tent opening, watching the exchange with bated breath. Rick doesn't blame them, but they're not exactly helping the case. He wishes he could get away from Negan for two seconds to tell them to mind their own business.

“Out here's fine.” He finally responds, drawing his gaze back to Negan's. He doesn't like that the taller man's smirk gives just slightly.

“No, it's not.” Negan answers. “Your people sleep out here, and while I don't give a flying fuck what they hear, I'm frankly not feeling up to talking to that guy, or that guy.” He motions behind him to Dale and Shane, who look just as surprised as Rick is that he's aware of them. “I requested an audience with you, pretty boy, and that's what I fucking intend upon getting.”

Rick sighs and shrugs, deciding that he's not actually as concerned about eavesdroppers as much as Negan apparently is. He very reluctantly nods to the barn in the distance. “That private enough for you?”

Negan's gaze follows Rick's nod, and when his eyes land on the barn, he cocks his entire body to the side and lets out a laugh. Slowly, he draws his attention back to Rick, and before Rick can attempt to protest, he's got an arm around his shoulders and is directing him toward the suggested building, pointing at it with his bat. “Now, _that_ is private. In fact, that looks like a good place to lay my fucking head from time to time.”

Rick suddenly wishes he hadn't suggested the barn. Why couldn't he have just directed Negan away from the tents, just further out into the yard? He knows he's going to hear about this from Hershel if Negan actually does decide to start sleeping in the barn.

“...Really think you should ask Hershel before you do that.” Rick comments, following along in Negan's grasp despite his words. “He's the boss, y'know. Dunno why you're even talkin' to me about this right now, since this is his farm.” Rick knows Hershel trusts his judgment, but he's also done overstepping boundaries by assuming Hershel's okay with everything he does.

Negan doesn't stop until they're just outside of the barn. When they get there, he releases Rick's shoulders and steps back enough that he's still painfully close, but can look Rick in the eyes. He sees Negan's eyes find his own, and then drift downward to scan his face, stopping at his mouth and then coming right back up to look into his eyes again.

“I'm talking to you because I fucking _like_ talking to you, Rick. You _really_ gonna tell me you have a problem with that?”

The lack of proximity is odd. Rick doesn't feel compelled to pull away, but there's a certain level of fear in Negan's closeness. He isn't sure if he feels threatened or trusted, and he doesn't know which of the two sensations the guy actually wants him to feel. And much to Rick's confusion, with Negan looking at him like this, his mind immediately jumps to Lori.

He swallows, and then steels his expression, eyebrows shifting downward and lips flattening out into a frown. “I just don't make the rules, that's all.”

Negan pauses, then backs away a couple steps and shrugs. He rocks backward onto his heels, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Right, okay, I get you. You're just trying to be respectful to Hershel. You're a good person, Rick Grimes.” Negan moves to explore the barn doors as he continues speaking. “First thing when your boss man wakes up, I'll let him know I'm staying in here.” As Negan inspects the broken locks on it, Rick mentally notes that he's probably not going to give Hershel a choice on whether he's going to stay in the barn or not, but there's some obligatory level of relief that Negan's going to talk to him about it. Overstepping boundaries, and all that. Rick would much rather Negan do that part than himself.

Either way, he follows Negan inside. He hears the man cough. “Oh, fuck—leave the doors open.” Negan says. “Stinks to high heaven in here and it's dark as shit. The fuck smells so bad?”

Rick hesitates. Should he be upfront and admit that Hershel had kept walkers in the barn, or should he make up some different story? The amount of death that had been in this barn at once still lingers in the smell, and telling some story about a horse dying in here isn't going to cut it. Rick also notices dried blood and feathers and stained haystacks scattered about everywhere.

“Hershel and me, we didn't know there were walkers in here until a couple of days ago.” Rick decides to answer, and Negan shrugs. He doesn't seem to care much about an explanation, even though he asked for one.

“Whatever—still looks like a _fine as shit_ place to stay.” He starts further into the barn, and as he keeps running his mouth, Rick casts a glance out the wide open doors. He can see a couple of Negan's saviors approaching with guns in their hands. Apparently, Negan's got his ass covered at all times.

“We found a leather couch today, Rick!” Negan's excitement is a little alarming. It's like he thinks he's talking to his best friend when he addresses Rick. And when he draws his attention to the guy, he sees Negan pointing to a spot further in the barn, almost completely on the other side of the structure. “Got it in my truck right now—a leather _fucking_ couch! In _mint condition_! That shit would go perfectly right here.” He notices his guards approaching and motions for them to stop at the doors. They obey.

Rick wonders if Negan's still planning on trying to find a new place if he's already talking about moving furniture into the barn.

“You busy tomorrow morning, Rick?” Negan asks, and when Rick looks back at him, he sees that Negan has his bat balanced over his shoulder, his other hand dangling to the side and his body bowed backward just slightly while he waits to be acknowledged. He looks something like a cartoon mannequin.

“I told Hershel I'd help double up on huntin' duty so we can get you your shit.” Rick honestly doesn't know if they're going to start hunting straight away, but he doesn't really want to spend his entire time at Negan's beck and call, like this guy for some reason thinks he's going to be. He's got a lot on his plate, as it is, and he can practically hear Shane accusing him of being buddy-buddy with Negan.

“Shit, really?” Negan's eyes go comically wide, and then he's smiling in a way that makes Rick go rigid. “I like your commitment, Rick! You'll do anything for that group of poor fuckers out there, won't you?”

Rick narrows his eyes. “My family is part of that group. My wife's pregnant. My son, and my best friend. And I owe Hershel my life for savin' my boy. Whatever it takes to keep them safe, I'll do it.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason.” Negan simply comments. “But how about this: I'll send a couple of my men out to hunt with your men, and you can help me get this hell hole all cleaned up and livable. Besides, I want to get to know you, because you seem like a _stand up guy_ , Rick.”

Rick already knows he isn't being given a choice, so he merely sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “Alright. But talk to Hershel, first.” Anyway, “Isn't there somethin' you wanted to talk to me about?”

Negan laughs. “Not really, no. Just got tired of being watched by your nosey-ass fucking neighbors. You gotta tell them to turn that shit down, Rick. If I want them to hear, they'll know it.”

Rick doesn't answer. Instead, he nods back to the doors. “Can I go, now?”

Negan hesitates, but then shrugs. “Actually, I'm damn worn out too. We'll resume Operation: Home Makeover in the morning. Let's go hit the fucking hay.” He moves toward the exit, clapping Rick on the back, and then the two of them, along with Negan's Saviors, are headed back toward the vehicles and the RV.

About halfway there, Negan speaks up again. “I do have a question, Rick.”

Rick looks up at him in acknowledgment.

“The girl in the bed yesterday—she alright?” Negan must notice the way Rick's brow furrows, because he immediately jumps into explaining himself. “I mean, I must've looked like a giant dickbag earlier for swinging Lucille around with her right there, but you have to understand—I've got to make a point. Definitely didn't want to kill her. And she didn't look good.”

“Far as I know, she's still layin' in that bed.” Rick answers, and he shoots Negan a look that fits loosely somewhere between disbelief and purpose. He kind of appreciates Negan's concern for Beth, even though it's thickly masked by the weird brand of self-centeredness Rick has already learned he possesses. “You know, you gave us enough reason to follow your rules by havin' your goons out there pointin' guns at us. You didn't need to threaten a sick girl.”

And then he's on his way. Rick surprises himself by how easily he manages to avoid looking back as he crawls into his tent once more and zips it shut. Carl's fast asleep, but Lori's wide awake. She breathes a heavy sigh of relief when he scoots in close to her.

“What was that all about?” She asks.

Rick shakes his head. “Nothin' to worry about. Just Negan layin' down the law again, I guess.” He doesn't mention that the guy asked about Beth, mostly because he doesn't care to think about it himself. It surprises him enough that someone who just waltzed in and staked a claim like he did suddenly cares about the well-being of anyone here. “Just get some sleep. He's done botherin' us for the night.”

Despite his reassurance to Lori, Rick finds it difficult to get back to sleep. He doesn't realize it until now, but he's still trying to process everything that had happened today. Randall's being kept in the shed until he recovers, and Negan and his army of Saviors are all camping outside with Rick and his people. He realizes right there that he has no idea what's going on in any of these people's heads, and what might happen if he goes to sleep, which only makes it harder to do so.

What if someone decides to try and fight back? What will Negan do? What will the Saviors do? Rick finds himself hoping Shane decides to confront him before trying to fight Negan and his cronies, because he knows that's exactly what his friend wants to do.

Dawn comes and Rick still hasn't fallen back asleep. Lori and Carl are snoozing peacefully next to him, even as the morning fauna starts to come to life, singing and chirping their way into awakeness. Rick is exhausted, but unable to rest. And he has so damn much to do today, between sending people on their way with tasks Hershel has requested and helping Negan clean up the barn he's essentially claimed for himself.

It's going to be a long day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel the need to point out that I'm absolutely blown away by the positive response to the first chapter of this work. I hadn't expected it to be received so well, and I'm thanking the anonymous requester who came up with the idea for this like a thousand times over. I'm having so much fun with it, and apparently, your idea has caught the interest of so many others. Glad we can all share this together! c:
> 
> Love you guys so much!


	3. Humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's barely a day into the arrival of Negan and his Saviors, and Rick is already questioning how he leads. Do people really stand a chance in this world with any hope of keeping a shred of humanity?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this chapter took so long! I spent a lot of time debating just how much I wanted to put in this one. The good news is, I think I'm finally past the 'laying down the groundwork' phase and ready to roll out the actual plot.
> 
> Hope this was worth the wait, guys!

Rick's up before most everyone else. Ever since Negan and his men arrived in the middle of the night, he's been unable to get back to sleep. So eventually, when sleep becomes utterly pointless, he ventures out of the tent and starts working on chores around their camp.

There's an odd silence this early into the morning. Rick knows for a fact that on any other given day, this quiet wouldn't be considered out of the ordinary, but it sure is now. After the dull roar of the many car and truck and van engines that have taken over basically the entire front yard of Hershel's farm and the clatter of guns being aimed at random farm residents, any silence feels equal parts strange and ominous.

Even though Negan has made it clear he doesn't plan on killing anyone if he doesn't have to, there's still an air of volatility hanging around the farm, and Rick knows exactly why. He might try to keep his people in line, but it's been proven that some of said people tend to do what they see fit anyway. Rick isn't happy about the Negan situation right now, but most everyone else seems to think he's as on board with it as Negan himself is. So Rick's wary that someone might react in a way that could make this whole thing more dangerous and unpredictable than it already is.

So far so good, though. Which is a plus, because Rick has other matters he's still got to attend to. He's already made a mental note to have a long talk with Shane, and with Randall on the mend, they'll soon have to worry about finding a place to drop him off at. Rick figures he'll spend more time thinking about both matters after Negan decides he's done getting his help working on the barn.

It's just barely pushing twenty-four hours since the Saviors' arrival and Rick is already noticing how different a leader Negan is from what he would've initially expected. It's nothing too drastic, but for the guy ruthlessly demanding half of everything Hershel's farm produces, Negan sure does have some odd priorities. Rick appreciates his concern for Beth, but he doesn't know how genuine it is. And rather than making Rick go out and get the shit he's expecting them to pay up with in a week, he's decided Rick would do better working on a barn with him, rather than the people he's already familiar with.

Again, Rick's got to wonder what his angle is.

There's a chill in the morning air--one that's cold enough that Rick decides to start up a fire. He's sure Carol and Lori will be up soon enough to start breakfast and their own daily routine, so they might appreciate a little morning warm-up before the fire. If not for the fact that the two women are the only ones assigned to this routine, Rick would suggest Carol let Lori stay warm by the fire until the morning gives way to the afternoon and the cold leaves the air. What with the baby and all, he's undoubtedly concerned about his wife taking care of herself, now more than ever.

Lori's situation is one that Rick's been halfway trying not to let himself think about, in favor of more important things. Not that her pregnancy or well-being isn't important--it's just that with Randall here and Negan popping up on the same day, he doesn't have time to think about everything that led up to the pregnancy. He thinks about their baby _all the time_. It's the disputes surrounding the pregnancy that he tries to push to the wayside.

Lori sleeping with Shane is something Rick understands on a certain level, considering they both thought him dead. But when he thinks about her having another baby, he thinks back to the conversation they had on the porch of Hershel's house the night Lori and the others were brought to the farm. How she thought Carl might be better off dead, and worried about how a child growing up in today's world could even have a chance at a happy life.

And then he thinks about her not telling him about her pregnancy, and then taking those pills without so much as letting him know what was going on. Hell, does Shane know any of this? Sure, Lori's already said the baby is Rick's even if it isn't, but there's some level of knowledge Shane deserves to have.

Rick stokes the fire, but when he hears something amidst the crackling of burning wood, he stands up. Naturally, he raises his guard.

"Top of the mornin' to ya!" A man says in a fake accent. Rick recognizes him as the skinny guy with the handlebar mustache who had pointed a gun at Patricia and his wife yesterday. Negan had called him 'Simon' at one point during that conversation. He struts forward with an unnatural spring in his step, which tells Rick he's acting gleeful just for the sake of doing so.

Rick isn't as afraid of him as he is Negan. He probably should be, considering how little he knows about the guy, but something in his demeanor just isn't the same. Rick can smell the cockiness wafting off his form like paint fumes, but he doesn't sense much else. At least, not right now. Rick doesn't think he's dangerous at the moment, but he doesn't think he's trying to be friendly, either.

"Name's Simon." The man greets, inviting himself to sit down by the fire with Rick.

"I remember." Rick says softly as he moves to sit back down. He's not particularly comfortable having this guy around, but he's not keen on telling him to leave, either. He's here for a reason, after all, and going by what seems to be the trend as of yesterday morning, Rick knows he just has to wait and see what exactly that reason is.

"Good, that gets introductions out of the way." Simon comments in response.

"...Negan send you over here or somethin'?" Rick dares to ask, and the silence that follows actually _is_ pretty scary. When he turns his gaze away from the fire and to Simon, he fights back a shudder. The man's just staring at him, smiling, that handlebar mustache quirked up in the corners. It's an immense relief when he finally opens his mouth to speak.

"You know," Simon starts, stoking the fire a bit himself, "Negan may be the kind of guy who rules with an iron fist, and you do things his way or piss off, but we're not his prisoners. Believe it or not, I chose to come over here. You happen to be one of the only assholes awake that I feel like talking to, so how's about you don't spoil that for me, yeah?"

Simon's almost as charismatic as Negan, himself. He doesn't hold that unnerving level of eccentricity to him, but he's definitely on a similar level to Negan. Thankfully for Rick, Simon wears his thoughts on his sleeve a little more, so he has at least a second to brace for whatever is going to come out of the guy's mouth.

"Okay." Rick shrugs, leaning back. He doesn't feel like knowing what upsetting this guy will look like, so he doesn't say anything else.

"So, nice farm you got here." Simon starts, apparently genuinely going for conversation.

"It's not mine." Rick answers honestly with a shrug. They'd had this discussion yesterday. It had been made plenty clear up in that bedroom that Hershel was the man in charge--not Rick. Nevermind what Hershel had said afterward about trusting Rick's judgment, of course. "Hershel's been kind enough to let my people and I stay here, but that doesn't give us any claim."

"One of those guys, huh?" Simon thinks aloud. Rick finds he dislikes the way this guy smiles with his teeth. "Made up of sugar and spice and respect and being nice. You're the very picture of someone who doesn't belong in this apocalypse, you know that?"

Rick doesn't speak--just cocks an eyebrow and waits for Simon to continue.

"You're here for your people. You have Hershel to thank that they are happy and well on this bomb-ass piece-of-gold farm, and because of that, you hang up on petty little details such as _respect_. You probably think humanity actually still stands a chance here." There's a thick layer of condescension to Simon's words. It weighs so much that it actually makes Rick's shoulders sink.

He isn't aware that he's staring dumbfoundedly over at Simon until the man breaks into a series of breathy chuckles, slapping his knees with his hands. He pushes himself up until he's standing and then grins down at Rick from the new position. "It's no wonder Negan already likes your candy ass. You're like a diamond living in clumps of dirt and coal. But this world, Rick...it's gonna tear you down. Just you wait."

And then he's off, and despite the almost depressing shift in the mood of the conversation, he's whistling and practically skipping away.

\- - - - -

Negan drags Rick along to convince Hershel to let him stay in the barn, which is not something Rick's keen on doing at all. It's not like he wanted Negan to move in there in the first place, and the last thing he cares to see first thing in the morning is Hershel being disappointed yet again. The poor guy just can't catch a break.

Either way, as soon as Negan exits his big truck in the morning, Rick finds himself in a one-armed grip around the shoulders as Negan leads him up the stairs, across the porch, and into Hershel's house.

He's allotted a momentary distraction from his disdain in the form of finding Shane in Hershel's kitchen. He's whispering something to him in a frustrated voice, but stops almost instantly when one of Negan's boots hits the tile floor hard enough to alert both him and Hershel of the new presence. They both spin around and take in the sight before them, before Rick realizes he's still in Negan's grip.

He promptly shoves himself away.

Negan doesn't seem to mind. Instead, his attention is focused on Shane. "Oh hey--you're the lucky fucker who was almost the poor fucker who got his skull shot out by Arat, am I right?"

Rick doesn't bother with a surprised reaction. Shane was probably one of the first ones to be ushered away from the porch by Negan and his men. Understandably so, and Rick figures that if he and Hershel would have been there as everyone had arrived, they would have reacted abrasively, too.

"Depends." Shane starts fearlessly, moving in close. He's a good handful of inches shorter than Negan, but when he puffs out his chest and narrows his eyes on the other man's, they almost look like they're evenly-matched. "Is Arat the girl with the attitude who tried to shove me off the porch?"

"That would be her." Negan responds proudly, seemingly unaffected by Shane's bold gesture. "That's why she stays right by my side--she's not afraid to do the dirty work."

"You fuckin' like that, don't you?" Shane narrows his eyes, and Rick's stomach suddenly flips because he senses danger. Across the kitchen, Hershel seems to feel the same way. They're both watching Negan and Shane with bated breath. It surprises Rick that Negan's got Lucille at his side instead of raised above Shane's head, or that Shane hasn't pulled a gun on Negan--one Rick knows he's got. "Little girls next to you, shovin' people around in your damn place. Man, you ain't nothin' but a coward."

Rick watches Negan's eyebrows come up in slow motion. It makes him nervous how the smirk doesn't leave his lips, even as Shane continues.

"You ever actually killed anyone?" Shane presses, ignoring the ' _c'mon, man!'_ Rick mouths to him from his spot next to Negan.

As Rick had predicted earlier, Negan raises his trusty baseball bat, though he doesn't immediately swing it at Shane. It occurs to him that with himself, Hershel, and Shane, they've got Negan outnumbered three-to-one, but when he looks around, he notices the blond guy with the stringy hair making his way in, assault rifle in hand.

"Man!" Negan suddenly cheers, and when Rick's attention snaps back to him, he notices the man's doing that strange leaning-back thing he does, holding Lucille up into the air like a cocktail. His amusement is focused on Shane, who looks the polar opposite. "You, my friend, have _balls_. I like guys like you, who aren't afraid to do what everyone else wants to do but are too busy shitting themselves to get to it."

Shane cocks an eyebrow, and Rick relaxes in time with his friend doing the same. Negan continues on his tangent.

"The answer to your question is _yes_. And not just the sad-ass undead fucks, either. You think I became the leader of the biggest community in this whole fucking apocalypse without having to bash in some heads?" Negan raises Lucille, bringing her inches from Shane's face. Rick wonders if she smells like blood or any other matter. "See this? This is Lucille, and she gets real thirsty at times like this. She's getting kinda pissed off at you right now. Got me thinking about maybe showing you just how capable of killing I am..."

"Wait." Rick decides it's time to interject. He doesn't bother trying to contain the urgency in his voice. At the very least, he's got both Negan's and Shane's attention, so he keeps going. "...You need him. I assigned him hunting duty, and he's the best shot we got."

"Yeah?" Negan stands up straight, and Lucille is returned to her spot at his side. "Alright, Rick. I wasn't totally convinced I was gonna kill this guy anyway, and you got me intrigued." He nods to Shane. "He and my guys are going out hunting today, right? He brings something good, and I won't paint his brain into old Hershel here's fucking porch. One chance." Slowly, Negan rounds on Shane, who actually hesitates this time. "One time--prove your boyfriend here right, will you? _Do not. Disappoint me._ "

Shane doesn't answer. He just stares, eyes narrowed, up at Negan, who flags his blond-haired Savior down from the corner of the kitchen he's been waiting in. "Dwighty-Boy! Come get this guy out of my sight. I didn't come in here for _him._ "

Rick doesn't have to ask Hershel what happened to know why Shane was talking to him. Chances are, he was trying to convince him to help do away with Negan, and going by the defiant look on Hershel's face, it didn't work. Rick wouldn't expect it to, but he still feels some relief thinking about it.

Convincing Hershel to let Negan have the barn doesn't blow over well, but Rick isn't surprised. In the end, he concedes, but only after making the point that Negan had better still be working on trying to find a different place for himself and his cronies to stay. It surprises Rick how okay with that demand Negan is, but either way, they're both soon on the way back out to the barn for what Rick knows is going to be a very long day.

In the daylight, the barn looks even worse. Negan and Rick have opened up just about every door and window and airway they can manage in order to do away with the smell. Lanterns have been placed in the corners of the barn that can't be reached by the light they've let in in the process, and Rick's now able to pick up on even more filth than he'd seen in the darkness of last night.

But, after spending so long out in the yard, this place looks like home. Rick almost wishes he'd have staked a claim on the barn before Negan. He looks up at the loft and thinks just how nice a place that would be for Carl and Lori and him to sleep, and how wide open it actually is on the inside--wide enough that everyone could have their own personal space and it still not feel too cramped. The stronger people, more capable of fighting and responding quickly to a threat, they would all stay on the first floor, while the others would stay on the second level. It would be perfect.

But of course, Negan's going to have this whole place to himself. Maybe he'll let a few of his men sleep in here too, because Rick doubts a big leader like himself ever sleeps completely alone. It's so big that he actually looks out of place, though.

Rick envies Negan's decision now, but he works despite it. As promised, it's just himself and Negan, and they're working tirelessly into the morning--hauling filthy, blood-covered straw out into trailers to be burned later, sweeping away feathers and cleaning blood off the ground. Rick eventually starts toward the ladder leading up to the loft, but he stops when a thought distracts him. He looks up to Negan and opens his mouth to speak.

But then he stops short. What he sees almost looks like an entirely different person. Negan's scrubbing away at a spot on one of the barn's walls, and he just so happens to be in the perfect place for the sunlight to be peering through the doors and around his form. Negan's got his jacket off, Lucille propped nearby, and is focused on making sure any hint of the death stench in the barn goes away, and he's working so hard on it that Rick actually finds it difficult to believe this guy is going to leave any time soon.

A part of Rick--the part of him that Shane and a few others think is a fool--also kind of hopes that getting the barn thoroughly cleaned is Negan's way of thanking Hershel for letting him hole up here. It's easier to want to work for a guy when you think he still has a shred of humanity, after all.

Either way, he finally speaks up.

"Why me?"

Negan doesn't look away from his work until he's finally satisfied that he's starting to make progress. When he does, though, he tips his body to the side a little in a gesture of curiosity.

So Rick continues. "You send your guys out there to do the hunting and leave me here with you to clean. You don't know me. What I'm capable of. What I might do."

"Well," Negan's response comes with surprising quickness, "considering you're just standing there holding the barn up, I don't think I've got jack fucking shit to worry about, Rick."

Rick doesn't remember leaning against the pillar next to the ladder, but he immediately pushes off of it upon hearing that comment, clearing his throat. "That's not what I meant."

"I know what the fuck you meant." Negan continues. "But I also know there are people you love out there in that camp. Killing me doesn't mean the saviors are suddenly going to go their own separate ways. Believe it or not, a lot of them like where they are. I guarantee them a roof over their head, a system that gives them a chance at a relatively normal life, and all they have to do is work for me." He grins his evil grin, and Rick finds himself shivering. "In fact, I'd even go so goddamned far as to say those fuckers would be downright _pissed_ if you saw fit to eliminate me today."

Rick hesitates, because it's then that he detects an air of threatening to Negan's voice. The man hasn't moved from his spot, but his eyes speak the volumes that his body language usually takes care of for him. Rick can't bring himself to speak again, so he just meets Negan's stare with the least uncomfortable one he can manage of his own.

"It's a good thing you're not gonna give that shit a try, isn't it?" Negan adds.

Rick nods. "I'm not stupid."

"Good." Negan starts on another spot. "That's the first impression I got of you, and I'd be disappointed as shit if you proved my ass wrong on that. Which brings me to the answer to your question."

Oh, yeah. Rick had asked why Negan had chosen him, hadn't he? Good to know they're getting somewhere with this conversation.

"It's because I like you, Rick." Negan's voice is so matter-of-fact that it's momentarily disabling. Rick isn't sure how to take it, since this guy is supposed to be telling him what to do, not coming clean about his attachment to certain residents of the Greene farm. "There's something about you I'm not picking up on yet, and I really don't like not knowing shit about you. I know you're smart, and you're calculative, and you're also easy as _fuck_ on the eyes." He bows backward a little to accent his words there. Rick finds the gesture intriguing. "But you're not just the kind-hearted co-leader this farm depends so heavily on. And I'm gonna find out what's so great about you one day, Rick."

How's anyone supposed to interpret that? Is Negan expecting a thank-you? Is this a promise for time Negan plans on spending with Rick in the future? What does any of that even _mean_?

Better yet, did it even remotely answer the question Rick had asked? Literally, yeah. But if that's the case, why does Rick still feel just as empty-handed as he had before he'd opened his mouth?

"...If you say so." Rick manages calmly, before he finally starts to ascend the ladder leading up into the loft.

Cleaning the barn is an all-day task, and Negan and Rick only stop for meals. They eat in silence--or rather, Rick eats in silence while Negan runs his mouth about nothing in particular. It's all just colorfully-worded comments about the farm and Rick himself and his wife and Shane. Things Rick can nod or shake his head to and instead focus on the fruit he's in the process of stuffing his face with.

In any case, by the time afternoon wears down into evening, the barn is clean enough that it doesn't smell impossible to live in, and Negan's managed to move the couch he's so proud of into it. It's habitable, and that's apparently enough for Negan. He's soon beckoning Rick off and back out to his family.

Rick exits the barn as dusk settles over the farm. He's covered in sweat and grime, so he's got his heart set on a shower. With his destination locked on Dale's RV, Rick embarks. His focus is anywhere but there, though. All he can think about his how exhausted he is, and the fact that he's sincerely hoping nothing crazy happens so that he can turn in early for the night.

It's insane, how Rick didn't realize how tired he was during the work he and Negan had put into cleaning the barn, but the instant he's given the 'okay' to go back to his camp, he's practically tripping over himself, he's so tired.

He arrives to find Dale sitting atop the roof of the RV. Frowning, he clears his throat. "Where's Andrea?"

"She went hunting with Shane." Dale responds simply, and Rick can tell in the tone of his voice that he's not the least bit thrilled by the idea. Dale has been something of a protective figure for Andrea ever since the death of her sister, and it's no secret that he doesn't like Shane. Rick is frankly surprised that he didn't make her stay, but he's also sure the guy tried. Andrea's just headstrong and determined to be independent, enough that Dale's protective measures on her often get brushed off as annoyances.

But none of that is the point. Rick had assigned her to watch duty, and her shift isn't over at least for a few more hours. Somehow, she's managed to convince Dale to take the rest of her shift and then his own.

"This is her shift." Rick says.

"She said she wants to be helpful, and you have to admit, Rick--she's a good shot." Dale still doesn't seem happy about the situation, but he's also appreciative of Andrea's strengths.

"Those are both reasons I put her on watch." Rick's getting irritated, and combined with how hard it is to keep his eyes open right now, it's only that much more intense. Frustrated, he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Shane and Daryl are both good shots too--that's plenty for hunting duty."

Dale shrugs, wearing an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, Rick. But you know how she gets--I can encourage her all I want to do something, but she's going to go with what she feels is the right thing to do."

Rick hates it, but he's right. He plans on talking to her about it later, but he knows that it's not going to do much good. She thinks she's doing what's right, and Rick knows she's on Shane's side of the whole situation here, so most of what Rick suggests isn't going to fly in her book.

But that doesn't mean he isn't going to say something. Rick has no idea how long Dale's been forced to keep watch for her, but that plus his overnight shift and then however long it takes the hunters to get back the next day is going to make for one long process for Dale.

Rick moves to climb onto the RV, himself. "You still have some time before your shift starts. Go get some sleep, Dale."

When Dale looks up at Rick, it's with an expression that looks the very picture of shock. "...Have you looked in a mirror, Rick? You're filthy, exhausted, and can barely walk. I know you didn't sleep last night after Negan confronted you, either."

Of course Dale knows. His intuition can be frightening sometimes.

"I'm fine." Rick answers. "Been through way worse than this."

"I don't care." Dale bites back. "You've been working hard all day--go take a shower and get some sleep. We're gonna need you awake. I can handle a long shift."

"You can use my shower if you'd like." Neither Rick nor Dale expect Hershel to show up out here this late, so they're both a little surprised when they hear his voice breaking through their discussion. "Dale's right, Rick--you've been out workin' hard in my barn all day. You've earned yourself a break."

Rick doesn't have it in him to argue with both men at once, so he concedes. Soon enough, he's back on ground level and following Hershel to his house. Hershel speaks up as they walk, and if Rick's being honest, he kind of expects the man to. They didn't get the chance to discuss anything earlier, when Negan laid claim to Hershel's barn.

"Shane tried apologizin' to me today." Hershel starts. "He wanted to explain where he comes from in regards to Negan and Randall--let it be known that I appreciate that he did that. I don't take it lightly."

Rick does too, to be honest. He knows that on some level, it's just an attempt to get things moving in the direction he wants them to move in, but at least he's being level about it. Rick can't fault that. It's going to make talking to him when the chance arises much easier.

"He also said he doesn't feel safe with what we decided to do with the situation Negan's put us in." Hershel continues. "Now, I obviously told him we don't have a choice unless we want to lose people, but he's not crazy about that answer. It's probably why he got so fired up when you and Negan showed up earlier."

Rick swallows. Would Negan have actually attacked Shane if he hadn't tried to stop him? Better yet, are Shane and Andrea and Daryl going to come back with enough spoils to satisfy Negan? Simon's words don't sit lightly with him, either. Rick's not exactly the most optimistic shade on the spectrum, but is it really too much to think that people have a chance at a relatively normal life after all of this?

He wants to believe Carl will one day grow up in a world without fear, and that his unborn child will have a chance at happiness. Right now, all that exists are fear and mistrust. Humanity is on edge, and no one can be trusted. Rick wonders how long civilization can go on like that.

But he instead just thanks Hershel for letting him know and lending him his shower, hops in, and washes the day's labors from his body.

\- - - - -

Rick's head is spinning. His adrenaline pumps in all different directions, and he can't focus. His mouth and the side of his head are bleeding, and he can feel the pain in his back and stomach and arms, but he knows that none of that is where his disorientation is coming from.

Everything just...happened so fast. One minute, he and Shane had placed Randall on the ground, arms and legs tied up, and the next, they were fighting. Randall had said something about knowing Maggie, and both Rick and Shane had inferred that that meant he knew the way to the farm, which meant they were screwed. Rick's mind, much like it is now, was in a flurry, and he couldn't decide right away what to do, which inevitably pissed Shane off.

And then they fought. Fists swung so quickly that Rick can't even recall right now exactly which one landed where. The only thing he does vividly recall is that heavy wrench Shane had launched directly at his head.

Shane had tried to _kill_ him.

The entire time Rick had been lying down on the ground after dodging the attack, all he could think of was how _right_ Lori had been. How he wanted to get home to his family and hug the hell out of both of them, and how he wanted to deck Shane in his stupid face just one more time.

But sitting in the car now, racing back, after nearly leaving Shane and Randall for dead, the three men are driving in silence. Rick's patience is waning, and he feels sick to his stomach.

That Shane...there's no way that's the one he knew before all this infection business. Shane's his _best friend_. There's no way he'd do something like that over leaving Randall in a parking lot instead of killing him. It just doesn't make _sense._ Rick hasn't been sure of much since everyone in the group handed him the steering wheel, but now, he feels even more lost.

Shane had said it earlier on the car ride here--that these people were his family, and he wouldn't ever do anything to hurt them. But now, Rick isn't so sure.

And he wants to be. He wants to look at Shane and see his best friend. He doesn't want to see the guy who slept with his wife, or who might have impregnated her. He doesn't want to see the one who killed Otis, and he sure as shit doesn't want to see a guy who almost killed _him_. Hell, maybe all this end of the world business is starting to get to him, and he just needs a while to collect himself. Get his bearings and all that.

So Rick decides to talk to him again. Randall pulls the car over and Rick and Shane bind him, cover his eyes, and return him to the trunk. Afterward, they move to the front of the car and take a moment of silence. Or rather, Shane probably intends for a little silence, but Rick speaks up.

"If you're gonna kill me," he starts, "you're gonna have to do better than a wrench." He watches Shane's gaze as it turns to regard him, and he swallows down some nervousness. "You don't agree with my decision--I get that. But you don't get to make these calls anymore. And Shane--back at that farm? That is _my wife._ That is _my son._ And that is _my child_. You're gonna have to accept that. And if you wanna be a part of what we got back there, you're gonna have to listen to me. You're gonna have to _trust me._ "

He sighs, because he sees the way Shane's jaw clenches, the bobbing in his throat as he swallows. He's trying to keep from saying something, and Rick knows why. It's because even though he tried to kill him with a wrench, Rick almost left him for dead.

"We're probably gonna have to kill that boy. We've got a lot on our plates right now. The Negan situation...not somethin' we can sit arguin' about forever. If I have my way, this 'half your shit' business is only temporary." After all, with winter rolling in soon, how are they supposed to fend for themselves _and_ the Saviors? It just isn't possible. "But for now, we gotta do what he says. Look for our chance, and strike when we know we can survive. And I need you for that, Shane."

As Rick pulls a pistol from his belt and offers it to Shane, he hands over more than just a weapon. He hands over trust, and a longing to have his friend back. He hands over forgiveness, as well as an apology. He hands over the hope that they can move on past the tumultuous past couple of weeks and get back to doing what they both do best--protecting Lori and Carl and the camp. And hell, maybe one day, they can shoot the shit around a couple of beers again.

"I need you _back_."

Shane removes a hand from the belt around his waist and takes the gun. Their eyes meet, but they don't exchange another word. They just return to the car and Rick takes over the drive back to the farm.

\- - - - -

Hershel is reluctant to agree, but Rick manages to convince him to let Randall stay in the shed while they decide what they're going to do. He's currently at the camp, talking to everyone in his group. Negan, Simon, and the stringy-haired blond have decided to accompany him to this meeting, much to the chagrin of damn near everyone else involved.

"This guy's potentially dangerous, right?" Negan defends himself, though he doesn't look all that concerned. "As a temporary resident here, I'd say I have as much right as you fucks to know just how far up shit creek you've managed to navigate us."

Rick brushes off the sarcasm and explains the situation. It's easier if he focuses on Lori or Dale or Glenn. "He knows Maggie. That means he could know the way here. So we gotta rethink what we're gonna do with him."

Daryl returns from where Rick knows he's been talking to Randall. Rick notices the marks on his knuckles. "His group's about thirty men."

Carol notices too. "...What'd you do to him?"

"We had a little chat." Daryl brushes her off and continues. "We let him go, he finds his camp, leads 'em here, our men are gonna end up dead. And the women are gonna wish they were."

"Isn't the answer pretty fucking self-explanatory?" Negan offers. The grin on his face tells Rick he's getting some sort of strange enjoyment out of being involved in this whole thing. "Guy's a menace. Set him free, and he comes here and my Saviors get to clean your mess up for you. But kill him, and nobody has to do shit."

Rick is already pretty set on killing Randall, but thinking about Negan's men being able to help deal with the situation is somewhat of a relief. However, he has no idea what demands the guy might make after having to do so. And God forbid one of Randall's men kill one of the Saviors. Rick doesn't want to think about what might come after that.

"Gonna have to agree with Tall, Dark, and Asshole over here." Shane pipes up, voice still hoarse from his brawl with Rick earlier. "We kill the guy, and we're done."

"Why does everyone think he has to go somewhere?" Dale pushes, and Rick hears Shane sigh. "Why can't he stay here? Be useful for us? He could be an _asset_."

"Yeah, until he runs off and finds his camp." Shane sneers.

Rick scratches at the back of his neck, frustrated. "Look, it's decided. We'll keep him in the shed until I figure out how to do it, but this is all we can do."

"I don't agree with that." Dale groans. "I'm going to call a meeting. We're going to discuss this the right way. See how everyone else feels about killing someone who may or may not deserve it."

Like that, Dale is gone. Everyone else disperses, leaving just Rick, Lori, Glenn, Shane, Negan, and his two Saviors. Glenn's nervously rolling something silvery and metal in his hand.

"What's that?" Lori notices.

Glenn smiles nervously. "...Hershel gave it to me. Guess it's his way of telling me he's okay with me being with Maggie." Rick can tell the guy's mind is a whirlwind of different thoughts, but he smiles regardless.

"Well, alright." It's nice to hear some good news amidst all this chaos. Rick even finds himself offering Glenn a quick one-armed hug.

Glenn laughs sheepishly, and then nudges Rick before nodding his thanks to him. Soon enough, he's off to go look for Maggie.

"So that's it, then?" Lori asks, arms crossed. "We're killing him?"

"...There's no other choice." Shane answers. He rests his hands on his belt and looks around among everyone else. "Guy's dangerous, no matter how you swing it."

"I know." Lori sighs. "It's just...crazy. A handful of months ago, we'd have never done something like this."

"You're gonna have to get used to it, sister." Negan interjects. Rick can't help but notice the way everyone tenses when he speaks--he might think he belongs here, but he clearly doesn't. Nobody has any intent of letting him, either. "Way I see it, you got two types of fuckers to deal with--the undead fuckers and the living fuckers. Unless you want to waste your stupid life away by handing your ass to both fuckers, you're gonna have to kill. In this world, it doesn't matter which ones you kill anymore, so long as you stay alive."

Rick knows Negan's right, but what this world has done to people...the type of monsters people have found in other people...it's a tough pill to swallow. He still agrees with Shane on this one, though--Randall's going to have to die. But at the same time, he's curious to know what everyone else thinks. He's going to let Dale call his meeting.

"We're still gonna see what happens at the meeting." Rick decides aloud. "It's important that we all know what's goin' on here, and where everyone stands." He then faces Negan. "That said, I need to speak with you."

Negan raises both eyebrows. "Oh, yeah?" He leans backward somewhat, impressed. "You gonna ask me nicely, or do I get to tell you to fuck yourself in front of your wife?"

Rick hears Lori's breath hitch. He raises a hand to silence her before she says anything. Afterward, he inhales slowly and lets out a long sigh. Rick's noticing a trend in Negan--he, for whatever reason, has more patience for Rick. And so long as he does as Negan asks of him, he should be able to continue building that rapport with him--something they could possibly use in the future.

There's a method to Rick's madness. Really, there is.

So he sighs and moves closer, until he's just a couple feet from Negan. He's not much taller than Rick, himself, but his demeanor gives off the vibe that he towers over him. Despite that, he meets those dark eyes with his own.

It's surprising, how easy it is to get caught up in the subtle fierceness to Negan's gaze.

"I need to talk to you... _please_."

Rick isn't sure how he feels about the twisted grin that curls its way up along Negan's already expressive face. Either way, it's there, and the larger man is all but devouring the fact that Rick did what he asked. He cocks his head, lets out a long, low chuckle, and nods.

"Good. Now, how about a kneel?"

"...What?" Rick's eyes widen.

"You heard me. Kneel, and I might give you your way."

The tension is palpable. Rick's staring Negan down, still trying to figure out if he's serious or not, but Negan doesn't seem to be backing down. So, with a heavy amount of reluctance, Rick drops down to one knee. He turns his head up and meets Negan's gaze once more, this time unable to withstand the glare that's no doubt all over his face right now.

But Negan doesn't seem to mind. He takes absolute delight in Rick's compliance as he backs up a step and lets out a barking laugh. "Now _that's_ how you do it! 'Atta boy, Rick! I may or may not be getting a little aroused here by how fucking good you're being for me." Rick's eyes don't leave Negan's, even though he really wants to look away and kick the guy in the stomach. Either way, he sees the humor leave Negan's eyes as he speaks up again. "Now, get up and let's go talk."

Negan and his men turn and start out toward the barn, and Rick pushes himself to his feet. He faces Lori, who is staring in disgust at Negan's form as it shrinks into the distance. When she notices her husband's presence, she turns her head to regard him.

"He talks to you like you're a dog." Lori growls.

"It's fine." Rick responds, bringing a hand to the small of her back. He takes some comfort in the way she moves in close, and allows himself a moment to just...be with his wife. It's been so hard to do so ever since the apocalypse had stripped them of their home lives. Rick realizes in little instances like this just how important a little comfort is. He misses Lori. Not just in how often he has to be away from her while he's working on being their group's leader, but also in how tumultuous things have been between them.

He hugs her, kisses her hair, and they separate. "This doesn't have to be permanent. We're gonna figure it out."

\- - - - -

"Are you fucking serious?" Negan's staring at Rick with one eyebrow raised high up onto his forehead. "You want me to let you do what, now?" He and Rick are standing in the barn once more, in the loft, where Rick is looking about the area.

"I want to do it here." Rick answers. "You know, deal with Randall."

"So you're gonna kill a guy in my barn." Negan deadpans.

"Hershel's barn."

"What the fuck ever. The point is, I'm sleeping in here, and we just got done cleaning the smell of chicken ass and dead people off of basically every goddamned inch of this place." Negan's expression is unreadable as he rests a hand on his hip, propping his weight up on Lucille with his other one. "And you want to just make a whole new dead guy for us to clean up?"

"We'll get rid of him right after." Rick pleads.

"I just want to know why the barn is your location of choice." Negan responds. "Why not just put a gun to the asshole's head and blow his brains out where he is right now?"

It's not like Rick doesn't expect that question. To be honest, he's kind of surprised Shane hasn't asked why they didn't just kill him on the way here. And it all makes sense, really. In a way, though, Rick's kind of glad he didn't. Dale is obviously against killing Randall, and Rick values his opinion, so it's a good idea to wait and see if the meeting they're having produces a different outcome.

"Hershel doesn't want to be involved." Rick finally answers. "Don't blame him. This barn is far enough away that he doesn't have to witness it."

"He wasn't kidding when he was talking about being away from civilization, was he?" Negan suddenly realizes aloud, to which Rick nods, because as far as he knows, Hershel hasn't left the farm since the end of the world. Aside, of course, from his recent visit to the bar. "Well, I hate to be the asshole to point out the dog shit on the carpet, but he's gonna have to learn to suck it the fuck up eventually. This is the way the world is."

Rick's learning quickly that while he hates how Negan does things, he can't help but agree with him on certain fronts. This is one of them. He's torn, because while Negan's right about the state of the world, he doesn't want to put Hershel through any more moments of clarity. At least, not immediately. Right now, the man could use a break.

"I know, and he knows." Rick says with a sigh. "But my son is here, too. I'd rather do it somewhere where he doesn't have to see."

He can tell by the look on Negan's face that the guy wants to say the exact same thing about Carl that he did about Hershel, but he doesn't. Instead, he tips his chin up and looks down at Rick over his nose. Rick doesn't cower under the stare, but he does feel anxiety chewing its way up along his spine.

"Be real with me for a second, Rick." Negan finally says, his voice suddenly heavy with something Rick can't place. "I just want to know what I get out of this. This barn is supposed to be where I sleep--not some execution chamber."

"Don't you have enough?" Rick can't take the growl out of his voice. Negan just knows exactly what to say to get under someone's skin. "Just let me do this. _Please_."

Silently, Rick's pleading that Negan isn't about to ask for another kneel. His reward comes in the form of another hearty laugh, before Negan sweeps in close and throws an arm around Rick's shoulders.

"Please, Rick!" Negan chortles, his grip around Rick's shoulders firm and sure. "I'm just fucking with you! You do what you've got to do. I've only got two conditions." He holds out a finger, almost at the same angle someone might use with a camera when taking a selfie. "The first--I get to watch. And the second, you have to _do_ it. None of this bullshitting with everyone else to get a group vote. Take charge, Rick, and stop letting people walk all over you."

Rick breaks free from Negan's grip. "...No one's walkin' all over anyone." He wants to remind Negan why it's important that everyone be on the same page, but he doesn't think the other man's going to hear it. He somewhat gets why--things get done that way, and arguments stop mattering. And Rick's dead exhausted of arguing.

Negan laughs again. "Now, I get why your eyes are so light that they're almost gray--you're fucking _blind_. You've got a lot of respect from these people, but half of them don't trust you. You're too busy trying to please everyone and make sure you don't accidentally poke someone in the asshole, and they're molding you like fucking silly putty for it."

Negan's words are sinking in with surprising weight, and it actually alarms Rick how much sense they make. He swallows and just watches Negan--analyzing as he speaks. He can't help but wonder just what this guy's story is. He's obviously got a very realistic view on this world, but there's something Rick can't place. Something he's not letting on, but Rick wants to know. He actually, genuinely wants to know.

"You've got to release the vice you've let them put your balls in, Rick." Negan continues. "Lay down the law, get shit done, and make sure everyone knows _you're_ the boss. Do that, and this barn is yours for poor Randall's execution."

Like night has just given way to day, any malice leaves Negan's expression, and he's suddenly smiling almost warmly. He nods his head toward the couch, and his arm finds Rick's shoulders again.

"Now, come sit down and have a beer with me."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been decided that the events that take place in the show are going to change up quite a bit. There are certain parts that are hugely important to Rick's character development that I won't fuck with, but some changes are going to be pretty pivotal. I've already got scenes in my head that I'm aching to write, lol.
> 
> Thanks so much for the wonderful response to this fic, and I hope it continues to be everything you guys have said it is so far!
> 
> And a big thanks to those of you on Tumblr who offered feedback on the direction you wanted this to go in!


	4. The Executioner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The decision on Randall's fate has been made, and another side of Negan makes itself known.

Negan's like a tail. Rick doesn't think he does it out of necessity to have him around, but the guy's been following Rick ever since the two of them made the agreement that would result in Randall's execution taking place in the barn. Sure, the guy probably doesn't trust Rick enough to assume that he's just going to do what's asked of him, but the day isn't even halfway over.

At least he's willing to help out some in the process. Dale's decided to abandon his watch in favor of running around Hershel's land and talking to others. Rick's seen him do this before--he knows he's probably trying to win over the opinions of the other residents. He thinks they're actually going to have a vote--like Randall's life isn't over already. The minute he decided to voice that he knew Maggie and put ice into Shane's and Rick's veins was the minute he signed his life away.

Rick supposes he could've left the guy for dead and things would've been alright. After his brawl with Shane that set free the walkers, Randall wouldn't have stood a chance against them all. His injury hasn't fully healed yet, and some of the infected would've been faster than him.

But a part of Rick is glad he didn't take any chances.

Either way, he's handling Dale's watch now, while the guy goes off and does his own thing. Negan's behind him, an apple in each hand. He offers one to Rick, who just stares between his face and the fruit in perplexity.

"...What?" Negan shrugs. "Just because you work for me now doesn't mean I have to be the enemy. This isn't a presidency, Rick."

Rick hesitates, but takes the proffered apple after a few moments. He takes a bite of it and lets out a long sigh. "...Thanks."

"Not a problem, Rick." Negan props Lucille up in the lawn chair since neither man is sitting in it. "Consider it my thanks for you helping me with the barn."

Rick shakes his head. "Suppose it beats huntin' duty."

"'Atta boy." Rick can hear the smirk in Negan's voice, and there's no denying the weird anxiety the sound gives him. It crawls up his back and creeps along his shoulders, prickling its way out to the very tips of his fingers. Suddenly, it's like there's a chill in the air. There are things Negan says that are so simple, yet so subtly unnerving. It's when his voice gets heavy like syrup that Rick doesn't quite know how to respond. Negan's intimidating in his own right, and he probably isn't even trying to be.

He wonders what kind of guy Negan was before the world ended. His mind paints pictures of a surly detective who's seen enough cruelty in the world to eventually become one with it, and then maybe of a wealthy businessman who has never seen true misery. There's something in those dark eyes, though...something Rick doesn't fully understand.

"Too bad cameras are fucking nonexistent." Negan's voice, drowning in teasing, breaks through Rick's train of thought. "Or I could use the classic 'take a picture, it'll last longer' jab. Missed a prime goddamned opportunity to just now."

Rick tenses when he realizes he's been staring, but eventually just looks away. He's supposed to be doing watch anyway, right? "Sorry. Got lost in thought. Wasn't you I was watchin'."

Negan scoffs. "Did you just _lie_ to me, Rick?"

He's about to speak again, but Lori's voice on the ground below cuts both of them off.

"Rick, can you talk to your son?" She questions, and when Rick turns to look at her, he sees that she's got Carl by the upper arm. The child struggles against her tight grip, but to no avail.

"I'm not goin' anywhere--c'mon, Mom!"

Lori shoots Carl a glare as Rick moves to the edge of the RV.

"What happened?" He asks, and Lori finally lets her son go, crossing her arms over her chest.

"He said somethin' to Carol." Lori answers. "Dunno what, but she's pissed now. Says he needs to learn some respect."

Rick sighs, then drops down to ground level. He doesn't hear Negan follow suit. As Lori storms off, Rick assumes to speak with Carol, he narrows his eyes down at his son. Carl recoils.

"Look, I don't care what you said to her, but you don't go bad-mouthin' any adult here, do you understand me?"

Carl frowns. "I told her it was stupid to believe in Heaven. It's true, Dad."

His son's words bring Rick right back to that night during Hershel's self-conducted surgery on Carl. When Lori had wondered if it was even worth it to fight for his life. While Rick still disagrees wholeheartedly with her, he definitely sees in hearing those words just how hard it is to watch the new world jade a child. Especially his own son.

He scowls, forgetting Negan's presence for a moment. "...You think about what you just said, Carl. Think about how Carol feels--she just lost her _daughter_. If she wants to believe she's still alive in some way, you let her."

"But she--"

" _Don't talk._ " Rick snarls. "Think. That's a good rule of thumb for life."

Carl crosses his arms, not unexpectedly. Rick supposes a kid's going to be a little argumentative after being cornered by both his parents on a subject he apparently believes very firmly in. But he's also got to know when not to open his mouth.

"Mom always wants you to talk more." Carl tries.

"Don't change the subject." Rick says back, and then he moves in close. The gash on his head from his fight with Shane is starting to throb as his stress level mounts. "You owe Carol an apology. You made a mistake. _Fix it._ "

He's about to walk away when Carl starts up again. "Is that why you're gonna kill that guy?" Carl may be Rick's son, but he often forgets how intelligent the boy is. How intuitive he is--got that part from his mother. "Fixing your mistake?"

In a way, Rick understands the question. Carl is acknowledging he screwed up with Carol. But at the same time, he's subtly questioning if his father sees his mistake in not killing Randall outright. Rick's tried to keep the whole Randall situation as far away from his son as possible, but some things are just unavoidable. Of course Rick's not going to answer that question the way Carl wants him to, though.

"That's different." He says, and he makes a point to ignore Negan's barking laugh behind him.

"How are you gonna kill him?" Carl asks. "Are you gonna hang him in the barn?" The questions are so matter-of-fact, and the last one tells Rick that his son has been snooping around for details. In Carl's defense, there's probably not much for a kid his age to do on the farm that isn't a bunch of work. But at the same time...damn it.

"You just think about how you're gonna make things right with Carol." Rick orders. "Don't talk. _Think_. Got it?"

Carl scowls, but nods. "Yeah." Rick sees him turn a glare up and past him, to the man on the RV, before he spins and starts off into the distance.

Rick turns just in time to see Negan climb down from the RV. Of _course_ the guy is laughing over that. Why wouldn't he?

" _Shee-it_ , Rick," He starts, rocking back onto his heels in delight, "I _like_ that kid! Sure knows how to speak his mind, and it's not just in that brat-ass way kids do, either. He made you think."

"Yeah, well." Rick cards his fingers through his hair. "I've been doin' that a lot lately, as it is."

"He makes a good point, you know." Negan's voice is strangely calm. "You could've taken out that poor fucker when you had the chance, and you didn't. Now you've got the judge, jury, _and_ the goddamn executioner down your throat. Executioner being you, Rick--because you're gonna be the one to do it." He smirks. "You're beating yourself up about this, and you need to fucking stop. Just get it over with."

\- - - - -

The meeting is a total disaster. Rick and his group, Hershel and his family, and Negan, Simon, and Dwight all gather in the living room to discuss what Randall's fate is. The entire time, Negan stares Rick down, as if he's daring Rick to change his mind about what has to be done. Everyone else shuffles awkwardly as Dale attempts desperately to sway their opinions.

Not unexpectedly, Shane doesn't agree, but Andrea wavers halfway through. Again, Rick's not surprised. Even though she agrees with Shane on most things, she still respects Dale and his values. The two have been close ever since Rick had shown up to their camp.

But for the most part, Dale is outnumbered. Rick has to give him an 'A' for effort, but in all honesty, he's just not winning. It's come to the point that he knows he's not going to save Randall with his words, so he backs off.

"Y'all gonna watch, too?" he pleads desperately. Rick's surprised Negan hasn't joined in the debate yet, especially after a comment like that. However, his attention is focused on Dale, who's glaring amongst everyone, his eyes moist with frustration. "No, you're just gonna go duck your heads into your tents and pretend we're not slaughtering another human being. Well, I refuse to be a part of it."

He disappears out the door, and as he passes by, everyone turns their gazes to the ground--even Rick. Lori moves to Rick's side, and as Jimmy comes downstairs with Carl, the three of them start out the door. For once, Negan doesn't follow. Rick can hear him and his cronies headed for the barn.

When they get back to camp, Rick ushers Carl into their tent and then makes his way to everyone else. Dale is nowhere to be seen, but Shane, Lori, Andrea, T-Dog, Daryl, and Carol stand, ready for orders. Rick swallows, clearly nervous.

Dale had asked him back at that meeting what had happened to his 'we don't kill the living' mentality, and he had told him that it was before the dead had started trying to kill them that he had felt that way. Things really are different now, but that doesn't make it any easier. He does take some comfort in not having Negan breathing down his throat while he works to put himself together for this, though.

"So, what now?" Lori asks, arms crossed over her chest. She looks tired, and Rick can't stop himself from trailing his fingers down along her hair empathetically. He's exhausted, too. Soon, though, they're both going to be able to lie down in their tent with their son and get a good night's rest. They've earned it.

"It'll be me, Shane, and Daryl." Rick informs. "Everyone else can go to their tents, and let me make this perfectly clear: the decision was made long before Dale called the meeting. So what he said about hidin' in your tents and pretendin' you aren't killin' a human being...it's null and void. This is _my call_. Not yours. Not his."

Nobody looks convinced, but Rick feels better after having gotten that part out. Either way, they all move to find some comfort at their camp. Lori squeezes Rick's forearm, before looking him in the eyes.

"You okay?" She asks softly. "You sure you're gonna be able to do this?"

"I have to do this." Rick answers firmly. He doesn't tell her about the deal Negan had struck with him. Even despite that deal, though, he feels like he needs to do this.

"Well, you have my support." Lori reassures, offering her husband a tired smile.

"I appreciate it." Rick says with a sigh. "But supportin' me and thinkin' I made the right call are two totally different things." He sees the way his wife hesitates, which makes it obvious she isn't sure he's in the right, here. "This _is_ the right call."

Lori pauses, but nods slowly. Rick can see a mixture of trust and concern in her face, but she speaks up despite it all. "...Okay."

\- - - - -

Randall whimpers the entire way to the barn. Daryl's got him by one shoulder, and Shane by the other, while Rick leads the way. At the entrance to the barn, Negan stands with his baseball bat perched over his shoulder and a big grin spread across his lips. He and Arat move to lift the barricade, and then they yank the doors open. Negan's got the place lit up with a couple of battery-operated lanterns, so it isn't hard for Rick to find his way around inside. He leads them directly into the middle of it, and then faces Randall.

"Do you wanna stand or kneel?" He asks, steeling his expression, even as Randall's sniveling grows more erratic and intense.

"Please...d-don't do this...c'mon, man...!" The boy begs, and Daryl decides for him by way of shoving him down to his knees. The whimpering grows louder.

Rick can feel Negan's presence behind him as he lines himself up with Randall. He turns to look over his shoulder at the leader of the Saviors, who is leaning against the wooden pillar behind him, his arms crossed and Lucille leaning against the wood next to him. He nods his head, as if to ask 'what are you waiting for?'

Rick turns back to face Randall once more, and brings his revolver up to eye level. "...Any last words?"

At this point, the kid is incoherent. Rick doesn't blame him. Dale's words hang heavy in the back of his mind--all the pleading that the guy could be totally innocent and would be getting killed for something he might not even do...yeah, it has its effect on the good Sheriff.

But this has to be done. It's either him, or all of Rick's people.

So he narrows his eyes and aims.

And then he hesitates. _Something_ makes him hesitate. Something Rick isn't sure what to label. An intuition--a feeling that this isn't the time.

That _something_ speaks up from the entrance to the barn.

"Do it, Dad." Carl's voice is defiant, and his big eyes are narrowed down at Randall. "Shoot him."

_Fix your mistake._

No matter how necessary this action is, it doesn't sit right with Rick to do it in front of his son. So in a burst of fury, he lowers his gun, and glares daggers at his son.

Shane advances on Carl. "Man, what the hell are you doin' here?!" He demands as he seizes the boy's arm. "Get back to camp."

"Tie him up." Rick demands to Daryl, who snarls his frustration at Rick, but obeys regardless and gets to work on locking Randall up in the barn.

Negan's silence is intimidating, but Rick marches right outside behind Carl and Shane anyway. He can hear Negan following them, and Daryl soon joins the pack after slamming the barn door shut and helping Arat barricade it.

The others are waiting, apparently unable to return to their tents after everything that's happened so far. Rick understands, but despite that, he feels a little guilty as he approaches. Dale is still nowhere to be found.

"We're keepin' him in custody for now." Rick announces, and he sees everything from disappointment to relief on the others' faces. Andrea sighs heavily, and Shane moves to join her after he shoves Carl toward his mother. Rick nods to the boy as Lori catches his shoulders. "He followed us. Almost saw us do it."

Lori glares down at her son. "Get in the tent. We'll talk later."

Carl sighs, but obeys regardless. When he's safely inside, Lori faces her husband. "...It's okay. I know you'll figure somethin' out."

Rick nods in agreement. "I know. We will. It'll just have to happen a different night. I gotta take this one off for now."

Everyone else seems to think that's a good call, because it's now that they start filing back to their tents. Lori disappears of to go talk with Carl, leaving Rick standing there around his camp.

Negan hasn't left, though, and once it's just the two of them and Arat, Rick realizes there's a tension in the air around them. Negan's _pissed_.

He seizes Rick by the collar of his shirt and tears him away from camp, pulling him out into the field until they're out of earshot. Rick feels a little grateful that Negan feels the need to do so, because his confrontations with this guy aren't something he cares to let everyone else at camp hear. Especially not his son, who's already apparently in a bad enough place as it is.

"What the _fuck_ was that, back there?" Negan questions in a low voice. Rick finds that the quieter he gets, the more intimidating he is. He does, however, notice that Negan has handed Lucille off to Arat, so there's that much.

"My son was watching." Rick growls. "I'm not lettin' him see that. He's seen enough."

"Yeah?" Negan scowls. "And he's gonna see more. It's about fucking time you heed the boy's advice and _man up_. This world isn't sunshine and daises any-goddamned-more. And it's never gonna be again. so--"

A scream tears the argument right out of the air, and Rick and Negan both find themselves looking around for the source.

"...Shit." Rick grinds out, before he turns his attention to Negan. "Deal with me later--I have to go."

Everyone on the farm scatters. Rick can see Lori ushering Carl out of the tent and beckoning him to Hershel's house, and everyone else at the camp is frantically searching for the source of the screams. Glenn races over from the house.

Daryl's the first to find where the sound came from, and with how frantic his voice is as he calls for help, Rick realizes with overwhelming anxiety that Dale is still nowhere to be found.

Until Rick sees that Daryl found him, on the ground.

The scene is gruesome. Daryl's crouched over Dale's trembling form, with a dead walker lying nearby. He's trying to staunch the bleeding, but the walker has already eviscerated most of Dale's stomach. Andrea drops down next to him, breaking immediately into heavy sobs.

"Get Hershel!" Rick barks. He doesn't see who takes off, as he too has dropped to his knees and is trying to help the bleeding Dale. The metallic stench of blood fills the air.

"Shit!" Negan roars from behind them. Rick can tell he's still furious, but he doesn't pay the fact much mind.

"Hold on, Dale..." Andrea cries. "It's gonna be okay, just hold on..."

Next to Andrea, Shane paces back and forth, rubbing at his head in frustration. None of them know what to do.

"We've got to prep him for surgery." Rick orders, just as Hershel shows up. "He's gonna need blood--lots of it."

Hershel shakes his head. "He won't make the trip."

Fine, alright. "Then we do the surgery here! Hershel, what do we n--"

Hershel's hand on Rick's shoulder is devastating. When he looks up and sees the older man shake his head, he feels his stomach sink. His gaze falls to Dale, who's staring pleadingly up at him, almost as if begging him to _do something_ , and he already knows the man's going to die at this point. He's going to die and then turn, and because he can't speak, Rick has to decide which one is worse.

As Andrea falls down away from him into more sobs, Rick raises his gun and points it straight at Dale's forehead.

It's like Dale's eyes grow wider and more glassy with every second. Rick can't tell if he's asking him to shoot him or _not_ to, and he hesitates for way too long. He doesn't want to kill Dale, but _someone's_ got to do it. Someone's got to save this man from what he's about to become. And Rick knows for damn sure that none of them wanted this to happen. Sure, they'd all had their disagreements with Dale, but that didn't mean they wanted him to die. And sure as hell not like this.

Daryl steps in. He taps Rick's shoulder, and then gently removes the revolver from his grip. Rick steps away, lets out a despaired scream, and turns to face the other way. Andrea sobs once more, and Rick hears his son's cries as he throws himself at his mother. He doesn't have the heart to scold him for eavesdropping again. Not this time.

He hears Daryl mutter a soft, "Sorry, brother," before the gunshot is fired.

And that's when Negan loses his temper. "This is _bullshit_." He seethes, before he starts toward the barn. Arat and some other man Rick doesn't know the name of joins him. They open the doors, and Negan enters. And then, much to everyone's shock and dismay, he drags out Randall. He's got him by the shoulder of his shirt, and the poor kid can't even keep up. He just stumbles along until Negan shoves him onto the grass near the other two bodies. His eyes burn with rage and frustration.

"Do you _see_ this shit!?" He roars, and Rick can see the horror on everyone else's faces. He hears the other Saviors moving in to join the congregation. They circle around the survivors and it's apparently silently understood that Negan's about to set the up for a Come To Jesus Meeting, because they all seem to know what to do. They've all got guns and are ready to raise them.

"Now," Negan starts, his voice raspy already, "I'm gonna lay this out to you motherfuckers real fucking thinly." He motions to Dale's body. "Had you done the job beforehand without pussyfooting around and letting _this douche canoe_ call a fucking meeting, he'd still be alive right now. You all would still be safe at your little camp, telling campfire stories and singing your kumba-fuckin-yas."

Without warning, he snatches Rick's gun from Daryl's hand. Daryl almost lunges for him, but Rick and Shane manage to pull him back before he can do any real damage. "Not now." Rick growls. " _Not now._ "

Negan holds out both hands, Rick's revolver in the right one. "This is how the world is, now! You don't get to pick your battles! You either kill the son of a bitch that stands a chance at getting _you_ killed, or you sit with your thumbs up your fucking asses, counting your toenails, while people like Mister Be-A-Fucking-Hero goes and gets himself killed."

He rounds on Randall, points the gun at his forehead, and fires. The kid collapses to the ground, his whimpering a distant memory. Afterward, he addresses the living again. "If you want to avoid shit like this again, don't bring an asshole home if you aren't sure you can trust them. Watch your backs, and if it _does_ come to this again, don't be a goddamned shitsack about it. Kill them, protect your people, and be _done_ with it."

And like that, he shoves Rick's gun back at him, snatches Lucille from Arat's hands, and storms back to the barn, leaving Rick and his group with the mess that's left. Andrea's sobs haven't faded yet, or else Rick's certain she would have tried to attack Negan too. Shane helps her to her feet, and as Rick and Daryl address the bodies on the ground, everyone else shuffles shamefully back to camp.

\- - - - -

Even days after Dale's passing, his presence still hangs heavy over the entirety of the Greene farm. They bury him, and Rick delivers a speech. He speaks straight from the heart, remembering exactly the type of person Dale was. His heart is heavy, and so are everyone else's. He speaks of Dale's bravery and inability to hold his tongue when he felt what he believed was right. He promises to honor the man in the only way he can think possible.

By not letting humanity crumble again within their group. With Randall gone, even Shane seems to oblige. He's still tense and disagreeable to much of what Rick says, but he figures the two of them will forever be at odds on some level.

The same way that he knows his relationship with Lori will never be the same. The end of the world does things to you. He doesn't know if that means separation or just a different type of love, but he sees it coming, and he knows Lori does, too. Neither of them have the heart to voice it yet, though.

Either way, plans are made to fortify the farm. Rick and Shane work hard assigning tasks and fixing fences and keeping walkers out. Hershel decides to let everyone move into his house with him and his family. His reasons are many, starting with the simple fact that they're going to need all the land they can get to grow more for Negan and his men. With winter rolling in soon, it doesn't look like they're going to produce, however, so Rick, Daryl, and Shane all make plans to go out on a run. Just for as long as they can't come up with crops on their own.

Negan hasn't spoken to any of them since that night following Dale's death. Rick isn't sure whether it's out of fury or something otherwise, but he tries not to make time to think about it.

Trying and doing are two totally different entities, however. Rick is very much caught between a rock and a hard place when it comes to that subject. Dale's desperate plea for his group to be humane in deciding what to do with Randall is in constant conflict with Negan's blatant demands for him to stop letting others push him around. He doesn't feel like he's being pushed around, but he also knows that things have been getting out of hand significantly more, lately. And both Negan and Shane had a point--killing the guy before any of this could happen would have been an infinitely better solution.

Rick can't describe Negan's effect on him. He's cruel and borderline malicious, but he's also smart. Every single time their eyes meet, Rick can see the cogs turning in his mind, and it's incredibly hard to believe that someone whose brain is constantly on the move could be completely wrong on a logical front.

In the end, it boils down to the war between righteousness and order, and with Negan holed away in his barn with Saviors swarming the area around it, it's much easier to veer to the former. Negan's presence is so persuasive that Rick wonders how Negan could tell him not to let himself be pushed around and in the same breath, do the exact same thing to him.

He's managed to at least keep his wandering thoughts on the back burner long enough to help everyone get moved in. Hershel has offered Rick, Lori, and Carl the master bedroom, he says because of Lori's pregnancy and Carl's age. Rick makes a mental note to come up with one hell of a way to make it up to him.

Afterward, he goes to work spot-checking fences for any breaks he can repair. Daryl joins him.

Rick and Daryl haven't spoken much, and understandably so. Their relationship started off rocky at first. Rick gets it--he'd have probably been pretty pissed if someone had handcuffed his brother to a roof to deal with a swarm of hungry walkers, too. And while Rick knows he had his reasons, he doesn't blame Daryl for keeping his distance at that point. Rick would probably have wanted to kill the asshole who did that to his brother, after all...

But when Daryl had taken the gun and shot Dale for Rick before the poor guy could turn, that had spoken volumes. Rick feels just as indebted to Daryl for that as he does Hershel and Dale. So when Daryl starts tugging at the barbed wire fencing right alongside Rick, he can't help himself.

"...Thank you." Rick starts. "For what you did out there. And I'm sorry I couldn't."

He sees Daryl shake his head. "...No reason you should be pullin' all the weight."

"Is that what I'm doin'?" Rick questions as he works.

"That's what it looks like to me." Daryl shrugs. "You got a big job, callin' the shots. Even though you don't get the credit you deserve for it, you make it look easy. Try and get Shane up there--sumbitch would've crumbled by now."

"Wasn't he leader before I showed up?" Rick frowns.

Daryl cocks his head, before he crouches down to examine a particular spot on the fence. "That was then. Shit's gotten worse since all that."

"Well..." Rick scratches at his cheek with his thumbnail. "Thanks, then."

\- - - - -

Things are turning out pretty well, actually. Rick and Daryl work hard on the fences while Shane gathers wood for barricading windows and unused doors. T-Dog helps everyone move their camp into Hershel's house, and by evening, they're all ready to gather in the dining room for a much-needed, heavily-earned meal.

Carl practically blows past Rick on his way in, and Lori follows him, casting Rick a pleading look as she follows her son inside. Rick's about to do the same when Shane speaks up from his spot behind them.

"You're gonna wanna talk to that boy, Rick." Shane pipes up, his voice surprisingly soft. It's that softness that has Rick turning to regard his friend.

"What happened?"

"He blames himself for Dale dyin'."

The confusion falls onto Rick's face like a camera filter, darkening his expression with concern. "...Dale got attacked by--"

"--A walker. Yeah, I know." Shane shakes his head. "But I guess he was playin' out in the swamps that day. Stumbled upon one of 'em. Was throwin' rocks, and had a gun he stole from Daryl that he was plannin' to shoot it with."

"...Same walker that killed Dale?" Rick's voice inflects with his question, though he already knows the answer.

"That would be the one." Shane releases a sigh, and then holds out a gun--one Rick indeed recognizes to be one of the ones Daryl keeps. "He's swearin' he's never gonna use a gun again. You know that ain't right in today's world, Rick."

There's a long pause, before Rick accepts the gun. He knows Shane's right, and that he needs to sit down with Carl and attempt to talk this out with his son. He makes a mental plan to after supper. "No, it ain't." He agrees aloud. "I'll deal with it. Thanks for lettin' me know, Shane."

Shane just nods, and as Rick turns to start back inside, he speaks up again. "You protect that boy, Rick. He needs his father."

\- - - - -

Supper is good. It turns out that once everything had been moved in, Lori, Glenn, and Carol had all pitched in and cooked a large meal--a sort of attempt at thanking the Greenes for welcoming them into their home.

The 'thank you's and 'don't mention it's are exchanged repeatedly for the duration of the dinner. Hershel reminds everyone that he should've done so a long time ago, and they all just express how glad they are that they're going to be able to sleep somewhere warm for the impending winter. It's bound to be more unpredictable than usual, seeing as they don't even have a weather broadcast to give them an idea.

Rick notices that Glenn isn't speaking. Andrea sits next to him, occasionally rubbing his shoulder. Carl sits next to his mother, doing the same thing. He plays with his food, swirling mashed potatoes around on his fork, until he ultimately decides he's done, and excuses himself without a word.

Lori tries to get up, but Rick reaches a hand out to stop her. He mouths 'I got it', kisses her hair, and then rushes out to follow his son. Carl jogs all the way out to the barn, and Rick follows. Negan's still nowhere to be seen, but the Saviors surround the structure, all mingled together on folding chairs. They chatter among one another, even as Carl sprints past them.

Rick follows him all the way to a tree stump out by the fence. By the time he catches up, Carl is sitting atop said stump, picking at the wood with blunt fingernails. He either doesn't notice his father's presence or doesn't care.

Rick gives his shoulder a squeeze, but he doesn't look up. So he tries speaking instead.

"I know you blame yourself for what happened to Dale, son."

Bingo. Carl finally turns his head up to regard his father. He swallows, and his voice starts to shake. "He's dead, Dad...and it's my fault..."

Rick sweeps around the stump and drops to his knees in front of his son. He turns his gaze up to peer into those matching blue eyes. "Listen to me, Carl. This is not your fault. I wish I could tell you things were gonna be okay. I want you to have the best childhood--like one I had--, but that's not possible anymore. The world was already cruel, and it got crueler when the walkers started showin' up."

Carl seems to be taking in what he's saying. Rick gains some relief in the way his son's eyes search his face for meaning.

"People are gonna die." Rick admits. "I'm gonna die, your mom's gonna die...there's nothin' you or any of us can do to stop it. The only thing we can do is keep fightin' and hope that that time doesn't come any time soon."

Releasing a long sigh, Rick unholsters the gun Shane gave to him, passing it to Carl. "I need you to take this, son. If you're worried about screwin' up again, we'll practice. But please, protect yourself. That's all you were ever doin' from the start."

Carl hesitates, but he accepts the offer. He sniffles, and then leans forward and cries softly into his father's shoulder. Rick holds the boy tight for more than just a handful of moments, until Carl's sobs deteriorate into hiccups. He pulls back, adjusts Carl's hat, and is about to open his mouth to speak when he sees someone standing in the distance.

Negan's got himself propped up against a tree, one leg crossed over the other, swinging Lucille absentmindedly back and forth. He's watching Rick, and the silence that follows his notice of the man's presence unnerves even Rick, himself.

Carl notices Rick's stare. "...Dad?"

"Carl, go see your mother." He ruffles the boy's hat once more, and then watches him take off. Once he knows Carl's safe, he turns his focus to Negan.

"Been working hard, I see." Negan observes aloud. The first thing Rick notices is how he's smirking. He doesn't know why he expected the guy to still bear that furious scowl he'd worn on the night of Dale's death, but for the first time ever, it's nice to see that grin, instead. "Fortifying everything around the farm...protecting yourselves. But your week is almost up, Rick."

Rick glares at him. "I've got plans for that, startin' tomorrow."

"I'd like to hope so." Negan answers. "I let the first week slide, because you helped me around the barn and then I saw the shit hit the fan, but now that the fan is free of _any_ shit, I'm back to holding you to your end of the bargain. It's the right thing to do, Rick."

Rick's exhausted. It's been hell even before Negan showed up, and he honestly doesn't feel like he's had a legitimate chance to rest ever since this whole apocalypse thing started in that hospital. Understandably, he's finding it more difficult to hold his tongue.

"Wasn't it you that told me to stop lettin' people push me around?" He quips with narrowed eyes. He's probably doing a whole world of damage here, but there's honestly only so much one person can take.

Negan's expression flattens. His smirk fades and the calm look in his eyes disappears. For a few long moments, it's difficult to tell just how he's going to react to Rick's question.

And then he bursts into barking laughter.

"Oh, fuck me!" He roars, clutching at his stomach with his free hand. "You never cease to amaze, Rick Grimes. Always full to the nosebleeds with surprises!"

Rick isn't sure what to do from there, so he just stays put and lets Negan get his amusement out. The man calms down in a handful of seconds, and then raises Lucille, pointing her at Rick.

"For the record, dumbass, I meant your group." He says, pushing himself off of the tree in favor of strolling over to where Rick's standing. "But you, my friend, have just slapped me in the face with the biggest fucking touché that I'm truly not sure how to answer."

Rick shrugs, and Negan starts laughing again, before he moves in close. He's damn near got his chest pressed against Rick's, and his arm curls around his shoulders as he moves to rest his forehead against Rick's, effectively turning the Sheriff to stone right in front of him.

"Let's just say it's because I'm the fucking boss, and _I say so_ , and leave it at that, yeah?"

And then Negan pulls back, and it's like night and day, how quickly his expression changes. he goes from quiet and threatening to almost gentle. He's smiling instead of smirking, and it looks so strange in those dark eyes that Rick finds himself briefly mesmerized by the sight.

"And thank you for getting your boy to take the gun back. You earned yourself some serious brownie points from me for that one."

Negan leaves Rick standing there, dumbfounded. If he's being honest, this is _not_ how he had expected his first conversation with Negan after that night to go, but he's also not disappointed. Nobody else's lives are at stake, and Rick even got out of a lecture over the whole matter. Needless to say, he decides the best thing to do at present is count his blessings and see what the next day brings.

Hopefully, all this bullshit has blown over, he and the others can manage to scavenge enough supplies to satisfy Negan and his Saviors, and life can keep going on. What he said to Carl was true--it's all about doing whatever it takes to survive at this point. Just this time, he hopes to do so with a little more humanity. Even though Rick hadn't been the one to kill Randall, having the mindset of doing so had been one of the more difficult things he'd ever done in his life.

Second to killing Sophia.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, this chapter marks the last time I have to directly follow canon for anything else! I plan on keeping certain scenes from the show, but it's about to veer off into some pretty different directions from here. Hope it's enjoyable!
> 
> Thanks so much for being so patient with me over this chapter. So sorry it took so long! I should be back to updating regularly again now!


	5. Dying Fire

If Rick's being honest, he's not even certain what 'brownie points' means in regards to a guy like Negan. He knows it doesn't change the fact that they have to come up with supplies for Negan and his group within a week, though, because the guy's been hounding him about it ever since they'd spoken after Rick's talk with Carl.

Everyone's still recovering from everything that had happened. Nobody is in complete agreement about the circumstances surrounding Randall's death, and the RV, field, and general atmosphere around the farm is a constant reminder of Dale's presence...or rather, the lack thereof. Nobody is over his death, even after sending him off. Rick witnessed Glenn working on the RV and breaking down in front of Andrea over it, and Andrea herself is having a hard time with it.

Hell, even Shane seems a little miffed by the fact that the guy is gone.

Shane doesn't like Negan, even after the man made his bold move on Randall. They've agreed about Randall from the very beginning, and maybe that's why they butt heads so violently, but Shane is fearless with his words around Negan, and has had his life threatened more than just once as a result. In order to keep things from getting too unpredictable, Rick has kept Shane and Daryl out hunting more often than not.

Rick, Andrea, Glenn, and T-Dog have gone on runs almost every day this week, determined to find enough to satisfy Negan. They've visited the little town they found Randall in and collected everything they could find, and they've inspected cars along the highway. Hell, they've even searched parts of the forest they had deemed too far to find Sophia in all that time ago.

Their spoils are decent, though Negan still seems unsatisfied. He wants more every single time, and every single time, Rick leaves his presence wondering just how much of any of this the survivors themselves are going to get to keep.

They're about to embark on their latest run when something catches Andrea's attention. After fortifying the entirety of the Greene farm, walkers aren't a huge concern. Most everyone is more worried about what Negan and his Saviors are going to do than anything. But Andrea just doesn't have it in her to let this one go.

"No, I don't think that's a walker." She insists, motioning to a spot in the forest with the barrel of the rifle she stares down. She passes the gun to Rick, who peers through the scope. But he doesn't see whatever she's got her sights on. Defeated, he passes the weapon back to her.

"I don't see anything."

"Well, there was a person." Andrea's got that soft sort of resolve to her voice that tells Rick it's pointless to argue with her. She's going to do it her way regardless of his opinion on the matter. Especially now, after what happened to Dale. "We can't go looking for things and put people in danger."

"We got plenty of people here who can shoot a gun." T-Dog reminds her. "If it's just one person, they got this covered here at the farm. Right now, we gotta worry about pleasin' our resident barn-dweller-slash-asshole."

Andrea still doesn't seem to be buying it. "You guys can handle one run without me. Just let me sit with the RV, keep an eye on the treeline. I've got the artillery for it."

As expected, she doesn't back down. The run ends up being conducted by just Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog. They decide to hit up the liquor store, and fill the truck with bottle after bottle after bottle of everything Rick thinks still might be alright to drink. He has a hunch that Negan and his people will enjoy something like this, and maybe after seeing it, Negan will be willing to call their spoils 'good'.

The hardest part to accept about this constant state of running is that not only are his people alone with Negan and his dozens of men right now, but by the time they've managed to satisfy Negan's greed ( _if_ they can do so), they're going to be back out doing the same thing all over again next week. Rick doesn't foresee even one day to himself and his family, to focus on tasks they need to be working on around the farm.

He remembers Negan's concern for Carl and his ability to function in the real world, but he can't begin to process just how one guy can go from being someone who genuinely gives a shit about another human being not immediately important to his own existence, all the way to demanding food and supplies right out of that very human's hands. Because yeah, Negan's not just taking from Rick and his people. He's taking from his _family_. From his wife and son.

The run actually turns out to be a breath of fresh air, though. Rick lets Glenn take the wheel, and in a sudden desire to relive an earlier experience, Glenn hot rods the old vehicle, sending it careening down the road, probably fast enough to send a few stray walkers flying. T-Dog cheers out the window, and when Rick realizes he's having fun for the first time in weeks, he too finds himself joining in the excitement.

They decide to stop by a gas station and car wash, and load up on as many snacks, bottles of water, and other supplies they can get their hands on. T-Dog tries on a novelty hat and imitates Rick's accent so comically that Glenn's threatening to pee from laughter. Rick insists he doesn't sound like that, but T-Dog shoots him a look that makes him crack, and the next thing he knows, he's laughing along too.

For a split second, it doesn't feel like everyone's been through an emotional blender. Rick almost thinks that maybe he'll come home, be able to hug Lori and Carl and not think about what happened to Randall or Dale or that Negan's waiting not-so-patiently on this week's spoils. For a split second, everything almost feels okay.

But in the end, they have to return to the farm. They have to come back and present their spoils to Negan for what feels like the millionth time. They manage to draw their trip out until night has fallen, though, and by the time they return, they're all tired and relaxed and almost feel like the run was a much-needed one. Rick has Glenn pull the truck up right outside of the barn.

He's about to greet Negan when Carol stops beside the vehicle, concern laced heavy on her features.

"...Where's Andrea?" She pleads, wide eyes scanning Rick's for any reassurance.

"She should be on the..." Rick turns toward the RV, but not unexpectedly, there's no one atop it. "She said she was gonna take watch. Where'd she go?"

"I don't know." Carol admits. "We were all under the impression she was going with you guys on a run again today."

Rick scowls. "She told us she was gonna keep watch because she saw somethin' in the woods right before we left."

"Means she's probably searching the forest." Glenn says. He can see Shane and Daryl approaching, both covered in dirt from a long day hunting. Rick isn't sure when they returned, but he's glad to see them right about now.

"You seen Andrea?" Shane's voice is serious with worry.

"We think she's in the woods." Rick informs. "She mentioned seein' somethin' in there earlier."

"She was supposed to be with you on a run." Shane's voice drops.

"Yeah, well," Rick bites back--god, he's tired of biting, "she decided she didn't want to go. Said she wanted to keep watch from the RV. Now, are you gonna help me find her or not?"

There's a silence, but Shane relents. "We pair off. Search different parts of the woods. Me an' Rick--we'll take one way, and you two can take the other."

Rick motions in the direction he remembers Andrea pointing through her rifle scope earlier. "She said she saw somethin' over that way. If it's a person, that means they could have moved. If we don't find anything in an hour, we double back and continue the search tomorrow."

"An hour's not very long." Glenn's voice is soft, making it clear he wants to search longer, but understands that searching at night isn't a good idea.

"Fine. An hour and a _half_." Rick growls, before he motions for Shane to follow him.

During the entirety of their search, Rick finds himself running through the scenario over again. He, Glenn, and T-Dog had been out on their run for more than just a few hours. Knowing Andrea, she probably went out searching for whoever she'd seen in the woods the very instant Rick's vehicle was out of sight. That means she could either have gotten lost searching for that person, gotten bitten in the process, or gotten killed by said person. It also means that the person could have _people_ , which just so happens to be the very thing they'd all been afraid of with Randall.

Is it too much of a coincidence that more people start showing up after this guy dies? Had someone been watching them all this time?

Shane takes the lead at some point, just as silent as Rick. His breathing is heavy, and Rick swears he's growling, he sounds so frustrated. He spends what feels like a good solid hour parading them around the woods, before he gives up and directs Rick out to a clearing. Rick feels a pang of anxiety, and it occurs to him that Shane might finally be pissed enough to have led him out here for good reason.

His lips flatten and his expression dulls as he turns to face Shane. But before he can open his mouth to speak, the other man is going off already.

"Man, this is pointless!"

"It's _Andrea_ , Shane." Rick tries. "We did the same for Sophia--"

"Not Andrea, dumbass." Shane cuts in. "You. Makin' all the _calls_ , bein' the big man in charge."

Rick's head shakes slowly in disappointment. He knows Shane's stubborn, so looking back, he doesn't understand why he'd ever thought handing him his gun back after the man had thrown a wrench at his head was a good idea. "The hell's that supposed to mean? I thought we worked all of this out."

Shane's sigh is like a dull roar, the dirt and grime on his face darkening his expression. Rick notices he's got his hand on his gun, even if it's still holstered. "...Nah, Rick. Get your head outta your ass--that ain't how it works anymore, man. You think we were just gonna be okay after that? Ride off into the sunset like nothin' happened? We tried to kill each other!"

"So tell me, then." Rick snarls. "What do you want from me? To go back to the farm-- _screw my wife_ , have my child, my _children_ , call you 'daddy'? Is that what you want?"

Rick might be calm on the outside, but he's burning up inside. The fact that Shane feels this coldly toward him eats him up straight from the pit of his stomach on out, and that he's dragged him out here to do god-knows-what as a result both terrifies and angers Rick. A part of him even wishes Shane would whip that gun out and pull the damned trigger--get it over with.

Before Rick pulls it on Shane, himself.

"You don't know the first goddamn thing about what I want, Rick!" Shane seethes loudly, as if he's forgetting they're in the middle of a field, within earshot of whatever walkers might be lurking around, or even whoever might have been watching them from the woods all this time. "What I want? What I want--I want Lori to be okay. I want Carl to be _strong._ You got no clue how to fix what's wrong with them, Rick. Man, I just wish you'd pull your gun."

Rick narrows his eyes. "I'm not gonna do that."

"Pull your gun." Shane bares his teeth.

" _No_." Rick brings his hands out to his sides as if to further his point, which only upsets Shane more.

"PULL YOUR GUN!" He roars.

The worst part is, Rick kind of wants to. It's a mixture of the fact that Shane's being too loud out in the open and the fact that he's somehow insisting Rick's not a good enough husband for Lori or parent for Carl. These are obviously thoughts he's had for quite some time now, and Rick wonders if they've been there longer than the infection has.

He feels betrayed. Shane, his partner, and the guy who had saved his life after he'd gotten shot. The same guy who had called himself Rick's best friend for years, even back in their high school days. The one who had operated by his side for as long as Rick can remember...

Yeah, _that_ Shane. _That_ Shane is threatening Rick with his life right now, all but begging him to return the favor. _That_ Shane is the one who threw a wrench at him. _That_ Shane is questioning everything Rick is...has ever been.

Or maybe he's buried underneath this _new_ Shane. But if that's the case, what's Rick supposed to do to dig him out? And hell, how's he supposed to dig him out when he himself is contemplating killing the guy?

Dale's right, honestly. Humanity is going down the drain. People are broken. Rick, leader or not, is just as wrecked as everyone else is.

None of this stops him from lunging forward, though. He tackles Shane to the ground and punches him square in the nose, immediately making blood gush from his nostrils and upper lip. Shane seems to register some level of satisfaction from that, and there's the tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips when he reaches his hands up and cuffs his fists around either side of Rick's collar. One hand rears back and socks Rick hard in the face.

Rick hesitates, regaining his bearings, and punches him right back. He doesn't give Shane time to react, as he swings and buries his fist in the other man's stomach. Shane, however, is quick to recover, bringing both knees up and sending Rick reeling back. He stumbles and collapses down onto his ass, and then Shane's on top of him.

They trade blows like that for a good minute or so, before a gunshot rings out nearby. The sound is so close that Rick wonders if one of them might have shot the other, but when he sees both their guns are still safely in the holsters, he shoves Shane off of him and looks around through fuzzy vision until he locks eyes on his own son.

Carl's standing like a beacon in the darkness, his pistol raised into the air, eyes wide and expression riddled with misery and disbelief. Rick melts instantly, and even Shane seems drained of energy at that point.

"Carl...son--"

"Shut up!" Carl's eyes well up almost instantly. "Why are you guys fighting!? You're _friends_! I _need_ you guys!"

Shane and Rick exchange genuine looks of guilt. They push their differences aside for the moment in favor of getting to their feet and approaching the distressed child.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Carl." Rick pleads. "Just...put the gun back down, okay? We're done. I promise."

"Yeah, that's right." Shane adds, a bloody smile spread across his lips. "We're gonna go back to the farm now. C'mon, let's go."

Carl doesn't seem entirely convinced, but Rick figures he's content to see something other than the violent fist fight that had just been taking place, so he follows along.

And that's when the growls start.

As if in slow motion, Rick, Carl, and Shane all turn around to look behind them, where a distant herd swells up behind them like the fucking tide. It's so big that it covers the entirety of the rest of the clearing, and Rick can't see the end of it. Their numbers have to exceed the hundreds, and that means they're stone-cold fucked. Even with Negan's help, they'd still be in big trouble.

"What the fuck are you waiting for!?" A not-so-faraway voice screams, and Rick pivots just in time to see Negan beelining toward them. He's waving for them to follow him to the barn, and that's exactly what they do. Carl pleads to go to the house, but Rick doesn't think they'll have time. He and Negan lead the other two inside, and Negan ushers them up the ladder. He and Rick work together to barricade the big doors with wood planks, before Negan rounds on Rick.

"You want to tell me what just fucking happened?" He's irritated and panicked at the same time. Rick notices it's a different kind of frustration than what he had encountered on that night when Randall had died. Negan just knows something's wrong this time, and he's as uneasy as Carl, Rick, and Shane are.

"It's not important." Rick answers hurriedly. "We need to think about--"

"Not important, my cork-soaking ass." Negan snaps. "Two of you look like you've been through a blender, and your son's petrified. Something happened, and the end result was a gunshot that has us waiting on the biggest goddamned welcoming committee I've ever laid eyes on. _Tell_ me, Rick."

Rick wants to demand to know why Negan cares so much, but he decides against it and just glares up into those dark eyes. "Shane and I were fightin', and Carl interrupted us with a warning shot from his gun. Happy now?"

"No." Negan sneers. "Fuck no, I'm not. It might cost us this farm, so of fucking course I'm not happy. So, Rick, what do you propose we do to remedy this shitstorm?"

Rick looks about the area, and then nods to the gas cans waiting just next to the doors. "I have an idea, but you're not gonna like it."

He can tell by the look on Negan's face that he knows almost immediately what Rick's getting at. "...No. Hell fucking no."

"You asked my advice." Rick tries again. "And that's what I've got. We light this place up, get the walkers on it, and maybe we can get out and make it to the house. Plus side, we keep 'em off of everyone inside the house."

Negan scowls. Rick knows he knows he's right.

"C'mon, Negan." He pushes. "You said it yourself--we could lose the farm, so it's not gonna matter. We make it out of this alive, and I'll help you build a whole new barn, alright?" Rick himself isn't one hundred percent sure he can manage something like that, but his offer still stands.

Negan curses, but finally agrees. He ascends the ladder, joining Shane and Carl on the loft with his baseball bat in hand, as Rick starts pouring gas all over. Afterward, he yanks the wood plank off the door latch, backs up, and starts screaming at the walkers that come pouring in. He taunts clear until he feels the ladder on his heels, then spins and starts climbing.

Shane takes it from there, flipping open his lighter and dropping it down below. Almost instantly, the barn bursts into flames, setting walkers and barn wood alike on fire.

"C'mon--c'mon!" Negan demands. Rick watches as he snags Carl by the back of the collar and yanks him out of the loft window, which is quickly starting to fill up with smoke.

Shane and Rick are next, peering down at Negan and Carl from above. Negan's trying visibly to keep from screaming for them to hurry the fuck up.

But before they descend, Rick and Shane exchange glances. This is the second time they've duked it out. It probably won't be the last. But they're still both alive, and that means they've got to work out their differences eventually. Even if it isn't something quite like being best friends again, they're going to need to find some common ground, because neither man is ready to kill the other.

"Rick, I--"

"We'll talk about it later." Rick finally says, before he nods for Shane to go. He follows him soon after, and the four move as quietly as they can into the woods.

Thankfully, the horde is pretty distracted by the light show Rick has created for them, so he, Negan, Carl, and Shane have a second to decide what to do next.

"We circle back to the house." Rick suggests. "Get there, make sure everyone's still alive, and start shootin' until the herd's gone. It gets too big, we take off. We've got the vehicles for it."

"You do realize I've got a small fucking army at my disposal, right?" Negan reminds. As if on cue, Negan's Saviors come pouring out of their cars, opening fire on the infected swarming the barn. It's obvious they can't tell if their leader's alive or not yet, by how they seem focused on the barn. "Just gotta get their attention, and we'll just do a lineup, and fuck 'em up until they're dead as shit on the ground."

"Make them stop shootin'." Shane orders. "They're gonna draw 'em away from the barn with all that noise, which beats the purpose of burnin' the damn thing."

Negan smirks demeaningly at Shane. "How about you ask nicely, first?"

"Are you shittin' me right now?" Shane bares his bloodied teeth.

" _Negan_." Rick seethes, and then something inside the barn crackles and hits the ground with a loud crash, Carl whimpers. Even from this far away, it's loud, which means the barn isn't going to last long.

"Say 'please'..." Negan continues.

"Man, shut up." Shane snarls in return.

"We don't have _time_ for this!" Rick doesn't realize it, but he's snapped a hand out and taken Negan's upper arm in a harsh grip. " _Please_ just help us get your people to stop firin' until we can redirect them to the barn!"

The roar of vehicles cuts the conversation off there, and when Rick wheels around to see what's going on, he sees the cars they've been using for runs, as well as the RV, circling the farm. People are shooting left and right, and Rick realizes it's not going to do any good to redirect if they're making this much noise anyway. Despite that, they've got to regroup somewhere.

"You gonna ask your dumbasses to go back to the house, too?" Negan asks harshly, tearing his arm from Rick's grip and shooting him a fierce glare.

"Just _get them to the house_." Rick demands, before he grabs Carl by the arm and tugs him off to the side. He can faintly hear Shane following behind him. Negan's about to join them, but an explosion draws his attention away.

" _SHIT!_ " Negan roars when two of his cars, apparently ignited by flaming walkers, burst into violent flames. When Rick spins to see the damage, he screams a series of curses aloud, because Negan's people aren't the only victims. The RV is now in flames, having parked next to the barn to search for survivors that aren't even around anymore. Whoever is in there either escaped or died from the heat.

"C'mon!" Rick orders once more, pushing Carl along. Shane follows him, and Rick sees Negan running alongside him, waving for his Saviors to follow him. He eventually hops into one of the trucks, tearing off toward the farm. He motions to the next car behind him, and they stop, letting Rick, Carl, and Shane in.

"Dad!" Carl cries. "Where's Mom?"

"Don't worry, son--we'll find her."

When they arrive, they all-but leap out of the vehicle. Rick sends Shane with Carl to the porch, while he darts off toward Hershel, who is so absorbed in firing that he doesn't see one of the incoming walkers behind him. Rick shoots it, and then snatches Hershel by the arm.

"Upstairs." He demands. "Get on the porch, we're gonna take them out as a group."

"They got Patricia." Hershel's voice quivers. "And maybe Jimmy."

"Where is he?" Rick asks as he and Hershel race up the steps and take new spots on the porch. "I can go get him."

"He was in the RV." Hershel's shoulders sink. "I'm not sure if he made it."

"Damn it..." Rick grits his teeth.

"No time to mourn!" Negan's voice erupts from in front of Rick, and when he sees him and his Saviors lining up in front of the porch, he knows it's game time. Another vehicle bursts into flames in the distance, and Negan lets out a string of curses as a result.

They don't stop firing until either they run out of ammo or they can't take the stress anymore. Lori, Carl, Beth, and T-Dog eventually disappear inside. The herd dwindles and eventually dies altogether. The farm is a sea of bodies and flames. Some of the fire has died on its own, but Rick, Shane, Glenn, and most of Negan's people make their way out to put out what's left.

They don't finish until morning, and when they do, the farm is in shambles. The fences everyone had worked so hard to fortify are destroyed, and the barn is leveled. Rick and Negan count six vehicles burned to their deaths, the RV and one of Negan's bigger trucks included. Patricia, Jimmy, and twenty-three of Negan's men are counted dead. Simon, Dwight, and Arat stand before the bodies, next to a very angry-looking Negan.

"That's half of the group." Rick hears Simon say as he moves to the group's side. "So what do we do now?"

"We should head back." Dwight suggests. "Get home, get our numbers back, and look somewhere else."

Negan doesn't answer. He taps Lucille on the ground, frustrated, and turns to leave, headed toward what's left of the barn. Rick watches him, then sighs and makes his way back to the house. He's got address his people. He can deal with figuring out what Negan's going to do later.

Even now, Rick knows they don't stand a chance against the Saviors. Twenty-three is apparently half of what the group was before, which means they have twenty or so men left. They've still got Rick's group outnumbered. A part of him doesn't really care, either. Not right now.

Soon enough, Rick's gathered in front of a porch full of people. Everyone watches him with tired, tear-filled or blood-and-dirt-covered faces. They're just waiting for him to make the next call.

"We have to leave the farm." Rick says, and Carol and Maggie burst into tears. "We can't rebuild the fences again if they're just gonna crumble eventually. Our safety is on a countdown. We need a bigger place--a place where we can retreat _within_ if we've gotta go through a night like last night again."

Negan joins the meeting there, with Simon, Arat, and Dwight in tow. They wait on the ground in front of the porch, listening in as well.

"Is this what life is, now?" Maggie asks, wiping tears from her eyes. "Not ever knowin' what safety even means anymore? Goin' from place to place, rebuildin', pretending we're actually livin' some kinda life? Look at the farm--we fooled ourselves into thinkin' it was safe."

"We won't make that mistake again." Hershel observes.

The air of hopelessness that hangs over them reminds Rick just what kind of world they live in nowadays. He remembers visiting the CDC, having a few moments of calm, and then learning that Jenner had planned on killing himself. Everything had gotten so intense from there, and it had all happened so quickly, but Rick will never forget what that man had told him right before everything had reached its culmination.

_We are all infected._

"...We're all infected." Rick repeats aloud, the weight of the words crashing down on everyone almost immediately. He can feel every single eye on him--even those of the ones in front of the porch. Disbelief and anger and confusion lingers in the air, and Rick almost wants to reach up and bat the feelings away.

"Excuse me, but what now?" Daryl's temper is already flaring as he rounds on Rick with that question. "What did you just say?"

"Whatever they've got." Rick answers, motioning to the sea of corpses on the ground outside of the farm. "We've all got it."

Carol speaks up from there. "...You knew that? _How_ did you know? Why didn't you tell us?"

"Jenner told me back at the CDC." Rick admits, looking about the area. Everyone's either irritated with him or frightened, and when he turns his attention to Negan, he finds himself privy to an ice cold glare.

"Still doesn't answer why the hell you didn't tell us." Daryl growls.

"Wanna tell me what good it's gonna do?" Rick bites back. "It's not like me sayin' anything changes the fact that we all turn in to _that_ , "he waves to the bodies again, "when we're dead. Don't know why, or how to fix it, but that's what we got to look forward to. You really want to live with that kind of information?"

"Sure beats being clueless." Glenn adds, looking a mixture of betrayed and defeated. Rick almost feels like he understands why he did what he did, but doesn't feel right about it at the same time. "That's...heavy information to withhold from any of us."

"Don't say it like that." Rick sighs. "That's not what I was tryin' to do. We just have to keep not being dead. We'll figure that one out eventually. We can still find a place--somewhere big, where we can make stronger, fortify, build a _life_ for ourselves. But for now, we'll spend the day plannin', comin' up with routes. Tomorrow, we set out. Get ready."

He pushes past the intense stares and looks of betrayal and makes his way into Hershel's home. In the kitchen, he runs himself some water and takes a drink. Curls his fingers in his hair, slams a fist down hard on the sink. It's frustrating, how they have to turn tail and run all over again. The farm almost seemed like a good place to stay. With Hershel letting them move into the house with him, it had briefly looked like they were going to last the winter. But now...with fall coming to an end and winter on its way, they've got to go out with _nothing_.

And there's still Negan to deal with. What's he going to do, now? Is he going to heed Dwight's words? Are they leaving? Surely, he's not going to expect a community that doesn't have a home to bring him supplies, anymore. But isn't that the only reason he chose to stick around?

A pair of arms slide their way around Rick's waist, and he leans instinctively back into the contact. He feels the warmth of his wife's lips on his neck, the comfort of her embrace. Even if he's not _in_ love with her anymore, the love is still there. He still feels relaxed by her closeness. She's still such an important source of reassurance--one that Rick needs now more than ever.

"I'm sure you had your reasons." Lori coos against the skin of Rick's neck. "Look, they'll get over it, okay? We're gonna move on. We always do."

Rick sighs, and eventually turns to face her. "I know. Doesn't make the situation any better, though."

"What happened to you?" Lori changes the subject, reminding Rick that he's got quite a few marks on his face, half of them bleeding. "You, and Shane...you both look like you've been--"

"Fightin', yeah." Rick nods. "We got into it when we went searchin' for Andrea." God, she's still out there somewhere. Rick hopes she found whoever she was looking for, so she's at least not out there, dying. "He took me out to this clearing. Started talkin' about how I couldn't take care of you and Carl, pushin' me, askin' me to raise my gun. I almost wanted it over. I almost _wanted_ to kill him."

Lori backs away at that. Her eyes grow wide, and it's then that Rick notices she's come to terms with it. Her stare says everything she can't muster the words for: _You've changed, Rick._

Yeah, he has. He and everyone else. Lori herself has changed. Shane has changed. Carl is changing right before their eyes. Today's world is cruel, and it's changing them. Either they're going to shape into something that makes it out of this hell, or they're going to die. It's that simple.

Despite that, he reaches out, attempting to catch Lori's arm, but the woman backs away again, eyes still wide. Rick tries again, but she jumps back, and the next thing he knows, she's jogging off and out of the house.

The farm is mostly silent. Everyone lingers in the living room, while Rick scours the land surrounding the barn for supplies. The truck they'd used to bring their spoils from yesterday in is charred beyond recognition, but there's no hint that the supplies had even gotten burned. Negan must've taken them into the barn.

But there's next to nothing left of the barn. Rick doubts he's going to find anything within those walls. Despite that, he starts turning over the blackened planks, seeking out anything he can find.

"It's no good." Negan's voice is actually a relief after everything that's happened. Rick still remembers that glare he'd been flashing him with during their meeting earlier, but he doesn't know Negan like he knows everyone else. He doesn't have to feel guilty in his presence. "Everything's burned to shit." Despite that, Negan helps Rick move a particularly large board. "See? Nothing. I'm fucking pissed I didn't get to try any of the alcohol you guys brought yesterday, too."

Rick shoots him a tired, deadpan stare. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Negan shrugs. "You did what you thought was best, even if it still turned into a shitstorm afterward. I gotta ask, though. Why were you fighting that guy?"

Rick doesn't know Negan. He doesn't know how the guy's going to react to any explanation he gives. And maybe that's the reason why it's so easy to give said explanation. He's telling the story to someone who doesn't really have an inside view.

He shuffles over to the truck he's been loading all of his findings into and lets down the door on the back, climbing in to sit on the edge of it. When Negan joins him, Rick closes his eyes and lets out a sigh.

"Shane was my best friend before all of this." He starts.

Negan scoffs. "It's hard to tell."

Rick just shrugs and continues. "I was a sheriff and he was my partner. We'd been through everything together. He was like an uncle to Carl. Still is. I got shot, and slipped into a coma. He saved my life, and then saved Lori and Carl while I was out. Left me in the hospital because he knew he wouldn't be able to protect me and save my wife and son in the process. I owe him so much for that alone."

"How'd you find them?" Negan asks, and Rick can't help but notice how curiosity has completely taken over his expression--even the prideful smirk he almost always seems to wear.

"I came out of the coma on my own." Rick answers. "Left the hospital to find that my hometown was overrun by walkers. Didn't know what they were until I met a guy who showed me the ropes. Dunno how he's doin'..." Rick misses Morgan. He remembers spending hours trying to communicate with the man over a walkie talkie they'd gotten from the police station, and he also remembers giving up on that endeavor.

"Anyway," Rick continues, "I went to Atlanta, because there was supposed to be some sort of evacuation set up there. Got my ass handed to me in the city, and Glenn saved me."

"The Asian kid." Negan thinks out loud.

"That's him." Rick smiles. "Anyway, he helped me get out of that mess and led me back to his group. Just so happens that Shane, Lori, and Carl were a part of that group. The people here? They're what's _left_ of that group."

"Still doesn't answer my question." Negan deadpans.

Rick rolls his eyes, mostly because he wasn't finished. "Things were goin' pretty well, but after a while, I started noticin' things. The group wanted me to lead. Shane didn't like that, because we didn't agree on what we should do next. And then, I started seein' the way he looked at Lori, and at Carl. Found out pretty recently that Lori's pregnant. I knew she'd slept with Shane before--wasn't stupid, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's in love with her. They probably thought they'd never see me again, so I don't blame 'em."

Rick scratches the back of his neck. "Lori insists that it's mine, even if it's not. And it isn't really fair, but I kind of feel the same way. And if Shane doesn't cool down, it's _gonna_ be that way. Out in that clearing last night, I wanted him dead. Wanted him to stop pushin' me, and to stop makin' things difficult every step of the way. The man out there last night...that wasn't Shane. That wasn't my best friend. That was the deluded monster the end of the world created."

Negan's silent after Rick finishes, for a solid couple of minutes. "That's a lot to take in, not gonna fucking lie."

Rick just nods. It feels good to get it all off his shoulders, honestly. He decides to change the subject, though. "...What're you and your people gonna do now?"

"To be completely honest, I'm not fucking sure." Negan responds. "We could go back home, regroup with the Sanctuary, and start all over again, but _damn_. It sucks like hell to go back empty-handed. Besides," he grins in a way that tells Rick he's about to say something annoying, "you promised me a new barn. I think I'm gonna hold you to that."

"So you're goin' with us." Rick tries to confirm.

"For now. Got a problem with that?"

"Honestly? No." Rick shrugs. "We need the numbers. After last night, I'll take all the people I can get. Even if they're a bunch of selfish assholes."

It surprises him, how Negan brushes off his comment in favor of giving Rick one of those all-too-common side hugs. "Good boy, Rick."

After how terrible the past night has been, Rick doesn't hesitate to lean into the feeling. He even goes so far as to slide an arm around Negan's waist.

Negan doesn't protest.

\- - - - -

By nightfall, they've got a plan mapped out. They've got three routes, all of which they'll try simultaneously. The process could take days, but it also keeps them from getting separated. They're looking for anything--a house in an open area, a building, even a fucking warehouse at this point. Somewhere they can stay, wait out the winter, and maybe turn into a place worthy of living in.

Supplies are packed into vehicles, and everyone's gathered in the living room, waiting out their last night on the Greene farm. Rick's coming in from double-checking everything one more time, when he overhears Carol's voice.

"What're we gonna do? We've got to do something? He's dangerous the way he is right now--not telling us anything..."

Rick sits outside the door for a moment while he listens. Daryl's half-defending him, half-unsure himself, as he responds to her. In a way, Rick gets it. He kept a big secret from them, and he's getting more demanding, taking more _control_. He's got a lot of people in his hands, and now that they know he's taking Negan's people along with him, the group is even more unsettled.

"And he and Negan are sure getting close..."

Rick pushes the door open at that. Negan and Simon, who have been helping him, file inside as well. Rick doesn't know if they heard what was said, but he doesn't care.

"Any of you got any better ideas?" He asks simply, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Yeah." Maggie answers calmly. "We go, now. Our fences are down, and we're all sittin' in here, waitin' to die. We should go."

"We can't leave in the dark." Rick shakes his head. "They're more dangerous at night."

"They're just as dangerous during the day." Maggie snaps back. "I'm tired of sittin' around."

" _Do_ something." Carol orders, glaring daggers at Rick, and that's all Rick can take.

"I _am_ doin' somethin'!" He snarls, baring his teeth at everyone in the living room. His gesture silences everyone, and leaves people staring at him in fear. "I'm keepin' you people alive! Almost killed my best _friend_ over you all, for Christ's sake!"

Shane's in the back of the room, watching with an oddly level expression as Rick continues. He knows what happened, though. Rick assumes that's why he's not cowering or gawking like everyone else. It's a breath of fresh air.

"You know--I didn't _ask_ for any of this. I didn't _ask_ to be in control of you people." Rick can feel the wide-eyed look of anger on his face. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. "And yet, I'm doin' it all the same. I'm doin' the best I can, and that means we _stay_ here tonight, and leave during the day, when we can see to drive."

Rick looks about the room. Everyone's silent. Carl's crying in his mother's arms, and the others are speechless. Negan's next to him, leaning against a wall, the tiniest of grins on his lips. Rick remembers being told by Negan that he needs to take control, so he's probably devouring this speech like it's a damned cheesecake.

"You don't like that I got Negan here goin' with us--I get that. But we need numbers. If not for them, we'd have all died last night on this farm."

"Don't tell me you're expectin' us to thank them." Daryl says.

"I never said that." Rick quips. "But it might be a nice idea. We're not dead, thanks to them. But you know what? Maybe you don't like what I have to say about all this. Maybe you think I'm wrong. Maybe you think you're _better off_ without me. You could be right!" He throws both hands into the air. "I'm not stoppin' any of you. You want to leave? There's the door. Go for it. Send me a postcard. But let me just make somethin' perfectly clear here."

He narrows his eyes at the entirety of the group, from Negan to Shane to everyone else. Bares his teeth, and somehow addresses everyone at once. "If you're stayin', you're gonna listen to me. This isn't a democracy anymore."

And like that, he's gone, headed up the stairs. He swears he hears Negan whistle approvingly.

 


	6. Closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day outside of the Greene Farm begins. The survivors have a long road ahead of them, and tension and drama swell around them like a tide. Shane decides to close some doors to keep all the cold out.

What Rick said, he meant. And he's sure he will continue to mean it as time passes.

He's just done with it all. He hadn't appointed himself the leader of this group. Other people had decided that for him, and he had just allowed himself to fall into the role. Ever since then, people have questioned him left and right. He's the boss, but every decision he makes seems to upset at least one person. And that one person usually makes a giant stink about it. Rick has become the bad guy so many times since he'd awakened in that hospital room that he's just burnt out.

If they don't want him to be the leader anymore, they can leave. But if they stay with him, that's it. No more votes, no more arguments. Rick is making the calls from here on out. he decides what is humane and what is inhumane, and he decides when humanity is even necessary and whether it's not. He calls the shots, and that's that. There's no gray area, and no room for error. Rick is about to show them just what being the leader is all about.

A fuming Rick Grimes has made his retreat upstairs, where he finds himself in the bathroom. He's staring his angry reflection down in the mirror, eyes narrowed. He sees dark rings underneath them, and a pallid, smoke-clouded face. He hasn't slept for more than a handful of hours in the past few days. He's exhausted in more ways than one. Looking himself in the mirror, Rick can see why he'd intimidated so many people down in the living room--he looks downright manic.

He doesn't want to be the bad guy. If Rick had his way, everyone would be in agreement about everything, and decision-making wouldn't be on the same level as pulling teeth. He wouldn't have to be a nice guy one minute and then a jerk the next. People wouldn't feel like they regretted making him leader over the decisions he's had to make. But obviously, Rick isn't getting his way. This is how it is, and Rick Grimes isn't the only person who's going to have to come to terms with that.

It sucks that they're going to have to leave the farm. If there's one thing everyone seems to agree on, it's that they can't stay here. Rick supposes they could spend another handful of months picking up the pieces that the fire and the herd left in its wake, but they'd only be awaiting another disaster. Maggie was right moments ago--sitting around isn't doing them any good. They've got to find a bigger, better place. Maybe more people. They've got to fortify, and they've got to have defenses in place for things like incoming herds and people like Negan and his Saviors. They have to be ready, or they're going to be stuck like this all over again.

Rick understands the frustrations going around. He knows it's not just his leadership everyone's upset about it. It's the fact that it seems like nothing is ever going to give. When do they get to stop fumbling around? When do they get to settle down? Are they condemned to running around everywhere for the rest of their life? Of course that's irritating. Of course it's exhausting. Home is such a faraway word right now.

An issue Rick didn't actually take the helm in was with Beth. After seeing what infected people turned into for what they really were, the girl had apparently lost hope. Rick knew she'd slipped into a coma, but the little blonde had eventually thought suicide was the answer. She'd seen no point in staying around in a world that seemed to be a giant dead-end. She'd even gone so far as to slit her wrist. In the end, she'd chosen life, but Rick can understand her mentality at the time. He'd given control over that one to Lori and the Greene family, but looking back, he almost wishes he had taken the time to sit down and talk to her about it.

The thing is, she probably isn't all better just because she'd decided not to die. She probably still thinks on some level that the world is over. And Rick understands why. Nothing is ever going to be the way it was before the infection again. That's a tough fact to take in, and everyone handles it differently.

Which is why it's important that everyone's on the same page, here. Chances are, those people down in that living room aren't going to see it that way for a while, but if Rick's onto something here like he thinks he is, they'll be thanking him in the future.

Rick decides this is probably going to be the last night he gets without working facilities for a while, so he settles on taking a hot shower. A hot, relaxing, cleansing shower. Steam quickly fills up the small bathroom, and Rick feels his tension rising with the heat, floating up to the ceiling and waiting to disappear out the door. He takes his sweet time, shampooing a couple of times as if that might help keep him cleaner longer, and by the time he pulls back the curtain and clambers out of the tub, his skin is glistening and red and warm to the touch.

Shiny and red and stark naked is how Rick looks when the door swings open and Negan comes pacing in. Somehow, Rick isn't surprised when the man doesn't freak out and get comically apologetic like most would. No, it makes sense in the way that only Negan could make it do so that he just stops, eyes Rick from soaking wet head to soaking wet toe, and whistles.

"Too bad you're a married man, Rick." Negan praises, tongue wetting his lips, and Rick freezes, caught up in the slow, wet drag of the muscle along Negan's mouth. There's something in the way he does that--an unspoken hunger, or maybe a facetious curiosity--that draws Rick's attention and sucks him right in. He wishes he knew what exactly was going on in Negan's mind.

And he also scolds himself for even thinking about it in his current state.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rick questions, eyebrows raised. Thank goodness Negan showed up after the shower instead of before, because Rick's temper has significantly relaxed now that he's spent half an hour or so underneath a hot shower spray.

"Really?" Negan scoffs. "It means exactly what the fuck it sounds like. You were already easy on the eyes, but now that I get to see _all of you_..."

"Too bad I'm a married man." Rick repeats, in an attempt at shutting the rest of that sentence down. "What'd you want, anyway?"

He only then notices that Negan's got a towel clutched underneath the armpit of his jacket. Negan tosses said towel toward Rick, who catches it and slings it around his waist.

"I was thinking the same thing as you, apparently." Negan answers, before he grabs another towel, shucking his jacket off and placing it on the sink. "Didn't feel like leaving this place without getting one last shower in, and it's also been way too fucking long since I last put my dick in one of my wives, so I figured a little private time with Righty was in order."

"Wives?"

"Yep." Negan's tugging his shirt off now, which he deposits atop his jacket. "I figure all the rules of marriage probably went out the goddamn window with the apocalypse, so if I want more than one wife and the wives in question are agreeable to it, I'm gonna fucking get me more than one wife."

Rick can't stop himself from retorting to that one. "And you were concerned about me being married."

"Are _you_?" Rick's suddenly met with a very pointed stare. Negan's standing there, shirtless, his belt and pants hanging wide open, staring Rick down with his eyebrows raised high up onto his forehead.

Of course he is. Rick's a pretty traditional guy in that sense. Whatever Negan wants to do with all his women is fine or whatever, because he's got a point. But Rick doesn't really care to share a spouse with someone else--never has. He's been nice about this whole situation with Lori and Shane because he knows it's over between them. Even now, with him knowing full-well his relationship with Lori is no longer permanent, he still considers himself unavailable. Clear until he and Lori decide mutually that they're done, that's exactly what he's going to keep doing.

Besides, with the big role he has in this post-apocalyptic dream team, Rick doesn't exactly have time to build a relationship with anyone new, anyway.

But the way Negan says that lingers somewhere right in the center of Rick's chest, and as much as he tries, he can't swallow it down.

"Speaking of which," Negan starts before Rick can answer, swooping in toward him, "that speech you gave is part of the reason I'm favoring myself some fucking alone time. It took more effort than I care to goddamn admit to will Mini-Me to go back to fucking sleep after listening to you be the boss, Rick."

Rick backs up until he feels the cold of the bathroom wall behind him, the sheer contrast in temperature making his breath catch in his throat. Negan keeps moving in, clear until he's just a few inches from Rick, and then he does that lip-licking thing again. It's like he knows he's got an effect on him.

"That's...good to know or somethin'." Rick tries, because he frankly just wants to get out of this bathroom as quickly as possible.

"I've been waiting on that shit, y'know?" Negan says, and Rick swears he hears praise in the man's voice. "For you to puff your chest out and let those fuckers hear you roar. Doesn't it feel good, showing them you're the man in charge?"

At that, Rick narrows his eyes. He plants a hand on Negan's bare chest, ignoring the sheer warmth of the moist skin beneath his fingertips. "That was about you too, you know." Negan doesn't seem to fancy protesting as Rick shoves him back. "I'm done getting jerked around by _anyone_."

And with that, Rick leaves the room. He pulls the door shut behind him, and then starts down the hallway, toward the stairs. Stopping halfway there, Rick flops his back against the wall and closes his eyes.

He's using every ounce of willpower that he has to push Negan's not-so-subtle advances on him away. Really, it shouldn't be difficult. Negan's the guy who had threatened to kill Rick's people to get what he wanted when he'd shown up. Sure, he'd saved Rick's ass by helping him with the herd last night, and had some token advice to give him, but if anything, Rick should hate him. Hell, he should be kicking the man's dumb ass out, whether they need the numbers or not. If they do settle somewhere, there's no telling what Negan's going to do with the new place.

But Rick can't deny the tightness in his chest when Negan moved in on him, or the way his eyes had lingered on how Negan was wetting his tongue in there. He's not too stupid to know he's developing a physical attraction to the guy, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel guilty about it.

Jesus...if it isn't one thing, it's another.

\- - - - -

When morning arrives, everyone works in terse silence, dressing and throwing sleeping bags into vehicles. Hershel and Maggie gather up a few last supplies, and then they're all piling into vehicles.

"We'll have to find somewhere to get gas before we set out." Shane reports, after he and T-Dog conduct quick checks on all the cars. "Almost all of us are gonna be runnin' on fumes if we take any of these routes without doin' so."

Rick nods and studies a crumpled map with Glenn, Negan, and Hershel poring over it on either side of him. "There's a station in town, but I can't promise it's got any gas left."

"If not," Glenn adds, "we'll just check other cars nearby."

"We'll figure somethin' out." Hershel sighs. "That's all we can do."

Rick nods before everyone clambers into their cars again, him at the lead. He, Shane, Lori, T-Dog, and Carl occupy the car in front. Hershel, Maggie, Beth, Carol, and Glenn are in the next. Behind them is Daryl on his motorcycle, and then Negan, Simon, and Arat in the big truck behind him. Three more vehicles carry the rest of the Saviors beyond that. With one last glance back toward the farmhouse, Rick kicks his vehicle into gear and starts driving.

The ride is silent. Rick can feel Lori's cautious glances on him every so often. Carl's fast asleep on her lap in the back seat, with Shane in the passenger's seat and T-Dog next to Lori in the back. It's when he looks in the rear view mirror and see Lori's eyes on him in the reflection that his skin prickles uncomfortably. Rick hasn't forgotten her reaction to what had happened between himself and Shane. And not long after that, he'd put his foot down about everyone's expectations of him. He's probably a pretty intimidating guy to them right now.

He doesn't speak. Instead, he silently thanks T-Dog and Shane for focusing their attention out the window instead of talking. Shane's calm enough, and T-Dog seems to have reached some sort of internal resolve that the law Rick had laid out is how things are going to be now.

Lori, on the other hand, seems stuck, and Rick knows why. The good thing about having been married to her as long as Rick had is that he's pretty good at knowing what she's thinking. His decision to be honest with her about Shane and about what was going on in his mind at the time is because he knows she would've picked up on the fact sooner or later. There never really was any avoiding the way she's reacting right now, because at some point in time, Rick and Shane were going to fight, and at some point in time, she was going to realize it.

There's also the fact that Andrea is still missing and they're continuing down the road as if she's right there with them. Rick isn't crazy about it, but it's either put everyone else in danger searching for her and relive another Sophia, or they keep moving and risk losing one person out of an entire group. Rick's got to protect everyone, and as much as it seems like a numbers game, that's just how it is.

Is Negan partly to blame for Rick's new mentality? Not really. As Rick stops them at the station and they get to work siphoning gas, he notes that he's probably always wanted to dig his feet into the ground like he did last night. Negan's constant harping for him to call the shots a little firmly definitely helped bring that mentality to light, but it isn't the sole reason. He knows a few people seem to think Negan's to blame, though.

Their search for gas isn't futile. In fact, they come back with more fuel than they need, which they immediately get to work storing in whatever they can find to put it into. Glenn and T-Dog raid the station yet again, picking up the supplies they had neglected to gather last time. Not much, really--just some clothes off the souvenir section and the last few remaining packages of potato chips and granola bars. Rick joins and raids the freezer, which is rancid with perished goods, but he cuts through the freezer to the cooler and gets his hands on a few bottles of water and a case of sports drinks.

They're going to need the electrolytes. _Lori_ is going to need the electrolytes. Hours of staring at the map tells Rick they don't have much in the vein of directions to go--at least not much that they haven't run across during trips for Negan's requested supplies. Rick already knows a couple of the routes aren't worth taking, so he's mentally tacked them down as last resorts in favor of longer, more potentially-fruitful paths.

T-Dog and Carol both think it's a good idea for them to go on a series of supply runs first. Stay in houses and small buildings, relocate often and stock up. Rick wants to find a bigger place and secure it, and then start gathering food and supplies. At least that way, they'd have somewhere to take said supplies.

At present though, they've got no choice but to go with the former. Rick is in a perpetual state of keeping his eyes peeled for something they can stay in for the long-term, but right now, it's a matter of going from house to house, digging through for canned foods, clothes, guns, and non-perishables. It's a matter of surviving until they can find a place to live. And Rick, no matter whether he calls the shots or not, understands that much.

They leave town with full gas tanks and don't stop until they reach a small grouping of houses along the current country road. It looks like a trailer park of sorts, but there are enough homes grouped closely together that they would be able to spend a night or two and have plenty of space for one another.

Needless to say, Rick pulls into the area and everyone piles out, getting straight to work clearing it of walkers. At this point, Rick is thankful for the fact that he and Shane had decided to give the others some target practice. He also realizes just how lacking they are without Andrea, Jimmy, Dale, Patricia, and the other Saviors, though.

But they're managing. Rick and Shane branch off to the furthest home and make quick work of the infected loitering about. There are two outside, and one is impaled on a broken flagpole. Inside, they kill three more, which they both make easy work of with unsheathed knives. They don't say a word--just get straight to work, inspecting rooms and cleaning out bodies, and then emerge to find everyone else slowly working at the same endeavor.

"We won't be able to stay in the two on that end." Glenn points at two dilapidated trailers in line, completely opposite the one Rick and Shane had just inspected. "The floor's caved in on both of them."

"Alright." Rick nods. "That leaves these three. Any other problems? The other two good?"

"I think so." Carol says as she and Daryl emerge from the trailer next to the one Rick and Shane were in. Next to her stands Arat and Simon.

"This one's okay, too." Arat shrugs to the last one.

"Okay, then." Rick answers. "That's that. We should have plenty of room for everyone to have a place to sleep, then. Let's see if they've got any food inside."

In the end, the sleeping arrangement isn't unlike the driving arrangement. Negan and his men all take one trailer, while Rick's vehicle takes another. The last one is left to the Greenes, Glenn, and Carol, and Daryl decides to take refuge atop it. They manage to find a few cans of beans and fruit, and start up a small campfire out of twigs and paper goods on the gravel parking lot in front of the trailers.

It's awkward and painfully silent. The same thick tension from last night lingers around them, and as they eat, the only conversation that takes place ends quickly in one or two word sentences. Reality is starting to sink in, and everyone else feels infinitely more comfortable just dwelling on the fact that they don't actually have a home anymore.

For Rick, it's easy enough. He hasn't stayed in any one place for too long ever since he woke up in the hospital. But his people...it's a different story. The Greene family had thought they'd had a perfect refuge in their farmhouse, so this whole thing is likely a lot harder to accept than it is for anyone else. But Lori is working to acknowledge that she'll be likely giving birth in the open somewhere (not the ideal situation, but Rick's not getting too hopeful), and everyone else at least had a camp. This trailer park is as temporary as it gets, and way too out in the open.

So they're essentially homeless, until they can get their hands on something sturdy enough not to give them doubts about their own survival.

Rick eats quickly and then decides to circle the park. He's already got it in his mind that he'll be taking first watch, so the first step is seeing which areas raise the most red flags. He's just about halfway done doing so when Shane shows up.

"What do you think?" Rick's former partner asks. "How's it look?"

"It's good enough for tonight." Rick responds with a shrug as he keeps going. "It's not permanent, but I think everyone can rest easy for now."

"That's good. Everyone here's wound up tighter than shit." Shane says. "Can't stand to be around 'em."

"Yeah," Rick laughs breathily, "yeah, I feel that."

"You know," Shane continues, "what you said last night."

"Shane--" Rick really doesn't want to talk about this right now. There's enough pressure from everyone else. He wishes he could deal with it all little by little. But at this rate, it's all still going to keep exploding every time Rick makes a decision. And Shane is the last person he wants to confront all of this with.

"It's about goddamn time." When Rick turns to face the man he had at one point called his best friend, he's met with the biggest smile he's seen on the guy's face since the world ended.

Dumbfounded, Rick's sweep of the area is momentarily halted. "...S'cuse me? The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means?" Shane laughs--actually laughs, and it's the most intense and somehow at the same time oddly relaxing gesture Rick's encountered in a long time. "My biggest beef with you this whole time, man, it's been because you ain't been lettin' your balls drop. You laid down the law last night, and you're done pleasin' everyone. That attitude's gonna be what saves us, so...it's about damn time."

Rick's not sure how to interpret those words. Just two nights ago, he and this man were engulfed in a fist fight that could have very well escalate into murder, and yet, here Shane is, acting like this whole issue has been over whether Rick has taken charge or not.

And hell, maybe it has been. Negan's sure been trying to knock that one into Rick's skull for a while, and he and Shane aren't as different as either of them like to think. It wouldn't be completely unfounded for them to be thinking on the same page.

"I hope you plan on followin' that up with an apology." Rick finally says. He's calm, mostly because he knows by that smile that Shane, _his friend_ , is back, but that doesn't mean he's just going to forget that this guy tried to kill him twice.

"Man, c'mon." Shane sighs, brings a big hand up and runs it along the short hair atop his head. His nose and mouth are a mess of cuts and bruises, one of his eyes bright purple from a well-aimed punch by Rick two nights ago. All of this adds to a pretty pitiful image of a man pacing back and forth, dancing around his words like it's a contest.

"No, _you_ c'mon." Rick bites back. He doesn't realize until he stares Shane down fully just how rigid his own posture is. A part of him is ready to fight all over again, bracing for the chance that Shane might lash out at him. "You threw a wrench at my head, and two nights ago, led me out to a field with a gun in your hand. You can't tell me I'm supposed to let that slide."

"Nah, Rick..." Shane's lips purse and then flatten, and Rick watches his throat bob as he swallows something in his throat. "Nah, you ain't. And ain't no reason for you to forgive me, either. But I can't make that stuff go away, y'know?"

"No, you can't." Rick deadpans.

"I can say it ain't gonna happen again, though." Shane grunts. "I love you, man...you're like a brother to me. I just...I love your family, too."

"You love Lori." Of course Rick knows Shane loves Carl like his own, but the statement is more a gesture for closure than an actual attempt at restating anything Shane has to say right now.

"...Yeah, Rick. I do. Can't change that." Shane's honesty doesn't go unappreciated. Rick relaxes considerably as his friend continues speaking. "It's just...you weren't really makin' any calls. You tried to, sure, but you wanted to make sure everyone else agreed with it, like you were seekin' approval. All I could see was _that_ asshole," Shane motions to Negan, who is chattering wildly to Arat and Simon, waving Lucille around, "killin' your wife and boy. I can't have that, Rick. You gotta understand, I was afraid for them."

"...I do." Rick admits. Truthfully, he doesn't mind that Shane's got feelings for Lori. It's the honesty that means the world to him. Their situation is fucked up, yeah, but so is the rest of the world. They can work around that. The hardest thing to get past is the overbearing sense of betrayal Rick's been trying to stave off ever since the day Shane had launched that red wrench at his skull. "And I appreciate it. You know we don't just get past this overnight, though."

"Nah, man." Shane shakes his head. "I know. Even now, I keep lookin' at your decisions and wonderin' if it's the right call. But you said it yourself--you're the boss. I'll let you call the shots, Rick--I'll trust you with that shit. I ain't gotta like it, but I'll trust you with it."

And then, it's like there's a weight sitting between them. Something Shane's just up and dropped right in front of Rick--like a stress he's been aching to get off his shoulders. He continues talking, and Rick swears he hears his voice crack. "You could've killed me, and you didn't. That's gotta mean somethin', right?"

"...Yeah."

Rick doesn't remember pushing the weight between them aside and breaking the distance. He doesn't remember throwing his arms around Shane's neck, but Shane still responds in kind. They're hugging like they haven't seen one another in years, and maybe that's exactly what it's like. Rick's hand is on the back of Shane's neck, pulling his friend in close, and Shane's face is in Rick's shoulder. They pull back, their foreheads touch, and Shane laughs as he finally breaks off their embrace.

"I love you, brother."

"You too, man."

They conduct the rest of the sweep together. Rick exchanges stories with Shane like they used to in the squad car all those months ago. There's definitely still something there--a knowledge of the fact that they aren't one hundred percent good yet--but there's also a sense of closure. It's that they both know they're going to try and make this work. Rick needs his best friend back, and so does Shane. They can address whatever happened between him and Lori later, and they're eventually going to have to cross the bridge that is Lori's unborn child. But right now, they just need a friend.

Two more laps around the perimeter tell the men they've got a good idea where to keep watch. For now though, they return to the fire. Negan and Simon have joined Rick's group, and when he steps in, he sees something odd.

He sees calm. Everyone's talking peacefully among one another. Carol's smiling and laughing at a display between Negan and his right hand man, and Maggie's rocking along to whatever the display is, a hand on Glenn's thigh. Beth leans against Hershel's shoulder, while T-Dog tosses gravel at Negan and Simon, pretending it's money.

"That's right, that's right--" Negan laughs, "Make it fucking rain!"

Laughter erupts through the entirety of the group, but when Shane and Rick join in on the fun, it falls silent again. They chuckle along and take a seat on lawn chairs surrounding the fire, and then they're met with stares. Carol looks fearful, and Daryl warning. Hershel is calm but alert, while Maggie's eyes are narrowed. Glenn, Beth, and T-Dog seem relaxed enough, while Negan and Simon regard the two men with twin smirks. Carl's asleep in Lori's lap yet again, while the woman stares him down almost expectantly.

Rick can't help but wonder what she wants from him. Maybe he needs to speak with her like he did Shane. He doesn't want her to be afraid of him, but what is he supposed to do now? It's not like he can take what he did back.

It's not like he's going to.

"C'mon, guys." Rick tries, smiling feebly at the group and even going so far as to let out a few soft chuckles. "Let's make tonight an easy one, alright?"

Negan's grin widens. "You heard the man, people. Lighten the fuck up! Don't make me have Simon here start passing out lap dances."

"There's a kid here!" Beth giggles, nodding to Carl.

" _You're_ a kid!" Maggie retorts.

"It's no big deal." Lori says. "Carl's asleep. I think he and I are gonna go to bed." She stands up, and for the first time since yesterday, she offers Rick a warm smile. "Get some rest tonight, okay?"

"I will, after watch." Rick smiles back. He can tell it's all a little forced, but he still feels some level of relief from it. She passes by, Carl cradled in her arms, and their arms brush. It feels different, and the same all at the same time. Rick really isn't sure how he's supposed to interpret it. But all things considered, it's better than last night. Now that Rick looks back on it, he actually _hates_ that the reason Carl had been bawling in his mother's arms that night had been because of him.

The last thing Rick wants is for his son to be afraid of him.

The night winds down from there. Negan and Simon continue to entertain the group, Saviors included, clear until people start retreating to bed. Shane, Lori, T-Dog, and Carl leave, and soon enough, Maggie, Glenn, Hershel, Beth, and Carol do the same. Daryl takes his watch back up atop the middle trailer, and Arat and Dwight direct the other Saviors to their own trailer, leaving just Rick, Simon, and Negan.

The antics stop, but the air of calm around them doesn't fade. Rick likes it. He expected most of the night to be comprised of a tense silence, so considering everyone's getting along alright and the 'fear the leader' mentality seems to have taken a spot on the back burner, Rick's going to live that shit right up.

Negan seems to notice. He casts something akin to a warm smile across the fire at Rick, which leads to Simon pushing himself to his feet. "Welp, I'm gonna leave you two boys alone, seeing as you're about to get all googly-eyed with one another."

Negan scoffs. "Don't be jealous."

It's no surprise that Rick thinks back to his encounter with Negan in the bathroom the previous night, but it's almost like the adrenaline from the fire is finally wearing off, because he's so deeply relaxed that he doesn't even mind when Negan takes a seat in one of the fold-out chairs next to him.

Of course, it also helps that Negan isn't doing anything more than just trying to sit closer. It's a little difficult to hear over the crackling of the wood in the fire, anyway. Their voices lower with the crowd dispersed.

"This is weird." Rick observes aloud, his eyes closing briefly, as he leans back in his own chair.

"...What?" Negan asks, and Rick can hear the hint of amusement in his tone.

"Just...this." Negan's easy to talk to, because most of the shit he says is so off the wall that Rick doesn't have to worry about freaking him out. "Us all gettin' along and shit."

"What the fuck's wrong with that?" Negan outright laughs this time. "You ask me, this is great. I thought I was gonna have to go hide with my people in the trailer to have any fun at first. Turns out your group isn't all bad."

"That's what I'm talkin' about." Rick's eyes open as he lolls his head to the side to cast a glance at Negan. "I went off on them last night--you saw it. Kinda figured things would be more...uncomfortable."

"I don't think so." Negan shrugs. "And I don't know shit about your people, Rick, so correct me if I'm wrong here. But I think they've all been waiting for you to lay down the law. You're under a lot of pressure, and even demanding little fucks like them know that much."

"Yeah, maybe." Rick sighs. "I just want to make the right call, and it'd be nice if everyone agreed on it."

"Yeah well," Negan retorts, "want in one hand and shit in the other--tell me which fills up faster. People don't agree on anything. That's a fact of life. You're gonna have to piss off a few people if you want to do what's best for them." He stands up. "Like you said yourself, Rick--they can leave if they've got a problem with that."

Negan might be an asshole, but some of the things he says are pretty wise. Rick gets the feeling he's been through his fair share of shit, and he wonders if that's what made him into who he is today. Did whatever has happened to him lead up to him deciding to run things the way he does? With the 'Sanctuary' and the 'Saviors' and the need for people to provide for him?

There's got to be a method to his madness, and as Negan starts to his trailer, Rick finds himself wildly curious. He almost wants to outright ask, but decides against it.

If he and Negan are going to be spending all this time together, he'll find a chance to ask anyway.

For now, he just focuses on his watch. Shane will take over in a handful of hours, and then he can get some sleep. They've got another long day of searching ahead of them in the morning.

Rick not-so-secretly hopes that maybe, Andrea will find them at the trailer park and they can continue with at least one of their family members back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, look! My first chapter that doesn't follow the canon plotline! We're probably looking at another chapter or two of this, before things start moving again. Hope you guys are still enjoying this one! Thanks so much for all your lovely reviews and for reading this!


	7. Jack Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks out and everyone's getting tired. Despite that, the tension is settling. Important conversations are had, and a temporary home is made. The survivors trudge on, even when life throws them curveballs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up here, guys: there is a teeny tiny amount of m/f sex in this one. Literally just a teeny tiny amount. No big deal in my opinion, but if that's not your cuppa, you've been warned.

It's when Rick and Lori try to have sex again that they finally get their talk.

It doesn't even feel like it used to. Yeah, Lori's lips are just as soft and sweet and intoxicating as ever, and yeah, Rick still enjoys the way it feels to be lying atop her. But it's not the same. They're both emotionally-driven people, and without their hearts in it, the passion just isn't there.

Rick's told himself over and over again--he still loves Lori. But he's not delusional enough to think that it's anything more than the platonic love of a very close friend. He knows he'd still give his life for her, and he knows that he still trusts her with their son...their unborn child. But a forced relationship is just as taxing as all the other stresses Rick has allowed himself to endure over the course of the past couple of weeks, and Lori doesn't need the tension, herself.

They've holed up in a two-story house this time around, three or four people to each upstairs room and Negan and his men assigned to the downstairs rooms. It's been a good day, and everyone's been throwing jokes around like they aren't traveling about in the end of the world. It almost feels like Negan and the Saviors aren't the enemy anymore. And hell, maybe they aren't.

Either way, after almost two weeks of tense silence and averted gazes, Rick and Lori are smiling and laughing. Carl reads off wrappers from the package of Laffy Taffy candies he found in a gas station and everyone giggles and chortles over the silly jokes. They pile into vehicles, and it for once doesn't feel like a damned chore. Rick doesn't protest when Carol suggests they take a left onto a country road and see if they can find a nice farmhouse to spend the night in.

And they do. And while Carl and Shane branch out with Negan, Simon, and Arat to check the outside of the big house, Rick, Lori, and the others file inside and start searching the rooms. Once the living room is cleared, Rick and Lori move for the upstairs while the others scour the downstairs. There are four bedrooms upstairs, and they search them one on one, Rick checking under beds and in closets while Lori covers him.

The fourth room is the master bedroom, and apparently both husband and wife see it as an opportunity. Lori's eyes meet Rick's, and then he swoops in and kisses her, urging her back toward the bed. It feels different right from the beginning, but neither spouse has the heart to stop. They keep trying, Rick kissing Lori's neck and Lori tugging at the back of her husband's shirt. He urges her up higher onto the mattress and tangles his fingers in her hair.

It almost feels robotic, both partners doing whatever they would have done in the past. Lori likes having her sides touched, so Rick does that. And Rick knows Lori knows he likes when she sucks on his lower lip, so she does so. But the gestures are borderline empty ones, and when Rick slides a hand into Lori's underwear to find that she's not getting wet for him, he acknowledges his own lack of arousal and breathes a sigh.

And then they stop. Rick pulls back, and he looks Lori in the eyes, and then they burst out laughing. Almost embarrassed, Rick rolls over and flops onto his back next to his wife.

"What're we doin'?" Lori asks breathily, her forearm covering her eyes. Even though Rick's feelings regarding her are complicated, he still observes just how beautiful she looks next to him.

"At this point," Rick lets out a defeated sigh, "I don't even know anymore." The humor leaves his voice. "Guess things aren't like they were before everything happened."

"I suppose you're right." Lori sighs, and Rick watches the smile fall from her lips. They both know what conversation they're about to have. It's been long overdue, but things like survival and fear of confrontation have kept them at a verbal standstill for so long.

"Lori, about Shane..."

"I know." Rick knows Lori is perceptive. He knows she's well aware of the fact that Rick and Shane had been at one another's throats for too long. He also knows she's seen the turnaround the two men have been trying to make ever since that night in the trailer park. She sees him trying, and Rick can tell she appreciates it.

What he isn't ready for is to see her start crying. When he tries to comfort her, however, she shakes her head. He does note that it's nice for her to be shaking her head instead of shoving him back, though. The dust on that whole situation must be finally settling.

"Lori--"

"--It was all my fault." Lori chokes. "I wasn't tryin' to, but I pitted you two against each other. Told you he was dangerous, and kept tellin' him the baby isn't his even if it _is_ his. I put the _knife in your hand_ , Rick. A-And I'll be the first to admit I was scared of him for a long time. Thought he was gonna try to kill you, or Dale, or even Hershel."

"He did try to kill me." Rick answers honestly, though the calm in his voice makes it clear he means no harm with the words. It's more a statement than anything--a validation of Lori's feelings. It's a simple manner of making sure she knows she wasn't entirely in the wrong. They all screwed up somewhere--all three of them. "Threw a wrench at me when we tried to drop Randall off. And then he led me out to that field, and I thought he was gonna try again there. But, Lori..."

When he turns to face her, her palm is covering her face, tears leaking out from beneath her hand and streaming down her cheeks. She's obviously been thinking about this for a long time. Just seeing her like this breaks Rick's heart. He kind of wants to cry right along with her.

"You hate me." Lori says amidst a sob, and it occurs to Rick that all this silence wasn't because she didn't trust him. It was because she was afraid to talk of him--afraid of what answers he might give to whatever she might have to say.

"Lori, no..." Rick reaches out, pulling her hand back from her face. Her eyes and cheeks are already puffy from freshly-shed tears, and he does his best to brush them away with his thumb. Gently, he grazes the back of his hand over her forehead. "No, I don't."

"I wouldn't blame you." Lori laughs almost bitterly. "Shane's supposed to be your best friend. I don't even know what to do with the baby, now."

"We'll figure it out." Rick tries. "We've been figurin' everything else out, okay? We'll figure this out too. Trust me." He glances nervously at her. " _Do_ you trust me?"

"Yes, Rick." She sniffles. "Yes, I do. I mean, I-I didn't for a while. It wasn't personal--you were just real stressed, and I wasn't sure what you were capable of doin'."

Rick actually gets that. He remembers and still adheres to the moment when he'd laid down the law in the Greene house after the fire and walker herd. He's not taking votes anymore, and his decision is still the final one. He still lets others tell him what they think, but he doesn't let them argue with him if he disagrees. He can understand why that mentality would be a scary one for Lori to process, especially right after learning that Rick had been ready to kill Shane if necessary.

"I know. I'm sorry." Rick sighs, but Lori shakes her head.

"Don't be." She answers, cupping the side of his face in her hand. Rick's stubble has grown into a decent beard by now, so as she brushes her thumb along his jaw, he can hear the scratch of her skin on the hairs there. "You've got a lot on your plate, here. You're tryin' your hardest, and with all of us fightin' you on it, it wasn't makin' it any easier. You're so strong, Rick. I'm so proud of you."

From there, the two collapse into a much-needed hug. Rick realizes as he buries his face in the crook of the woman's neck that _this_ is what he needed. Not the sex or the kisses or the physical release, but an emotional one of sorts. The stress melts away as Lori's fingers card through his hair, and he can hear her hitching, crying breaths dying away as he curls his arms around her frame.

They stay like that for several minutes, until Rick realizes he's so tired he might just fall asleep. It's on that note that he pulls away. He knows the others can probably take care of securing the place, but if he's going to be the leader, he needs to _be_ the leader. So he sits up. He feels Lori's gaze on him as he does so.

"So...what now?" Rick asks, scratching at the back of his neck.

"What do you mean?" Lori questions. "Rick, it's gettin' cold. This house is in good condition--we could stay here a while..."

"No, I mean...us." Rick turns to regard her from his new sitting position. Something in her expression she already knew what he meant. "What do you feel?"

"I dunno." The woman answers, and she too sits up after a few moments. Rick notices how she's keeping him close, trying to make sure that any impact her words might have is soften by whatever gentle physical contact she gives him. At present, it's an arm around his shoulders, fingers giving his right shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I dunno, Rick. It's not like it was before. I wish it were easy, but it's not."

"I know." Rick, despite himself, leans back into the contact. "I love you, Lori. Always have and always will, but..."

"I know." Lori agrees. "So what do we do?"

Rick laughs, and Lori must know what he's about to say, judging by how she joins in. "Guess if it comes down to it, divorce isn't gonna be expensive anymore."

"This is true." Lori chuckles, resting her chin on Rick's left shoulder. "If we decide to do that, after all legal processes are gone to shit is probably the best time to do it."

"We don't have to get a divorce, though." Rick bounces back, and he appreciates that he can feel Lori's understanding of his confusion radiating from her demeanor.

"I know. Maybe just separate for now? See what it feels like?"

"I think that's a good idea." Rick pivots, watching as Lori leans back away from him. Their eyes meet. He touches the side of her face, and she leans into the contact, a tear slipping down her cheek. "You know I'll always love you though, right?"

"Yeah." Lori nods. "I love you too, Rick."

"Even if this does end our marriage, you're always gonna be one of my best friends, and you'll always be the mother of my child...our children."

"I know." She smiles and pulls Rick into yet another hug. The embrace brings about a sort of catharsis for Rick. He's been dwelling on everything that's happened between himself and Lori and Shane for too long, and now, it seems like things are starting to relax. Like he can breathe and not have to worry about getting caught with his pants down.

It's a rare pleasure, being able to have some time to think without having a premeditated reaction in mind while doing so.

Rick lets Lori sleep in that master bedroom, and pushes himself to his feet. He wipes some moisture from his eyes, before he steels himself and steps out into the hallway. He descends the stairs, finding himself greeted to just about everyone. They've all got a can of something in their hands, munching away. Carl has just finished handing out plastic spoons, and once he spots his dad, he brings a can of beans and a spoon to him.

"Where's Mom?" He questions, and Rick feels terrible seeing how tired his son's eyes are. They've had a long past couple of days.

"She's upstairs in the master bedroom, sleepin'." Rick answers, adjusting the hat atop Carl's head a little. "That's where you and her are gonna sleep tonight, okay?"

Carl shrugs. "Alright. How many rooms are there?"

"Four upstairs, one bathroom." Rick answers.

"We counted two down here," Dwight adds, "and one bathroom. We could make the laundry room and dining room into sleeping quarters, though."

Rick scans the room. Everyone's staring hopefully at him. From Carol's wide, moist eyes to Negan's tired, almost pleading ones. People are exhausted, and Rick gets that. He doesn't have to guess from their expressions that they want to try and stay in this place for a while.

The odds aren't totally against them here, either. Living on a country road, they could find plenty of firewood--clean out the fireplace and get it running again. They'd have a roof over their heads, and time to search for supplies. They could wait out the worst of the winter (which Rick knows is well on its way), and then emerge at the first signs of spring. It'd give them time to plan, figure out their next step, and maybe even give Lori a place to have the baby. By the end of winter, she's probably going to be close to due.

When he puts those thoughts into words, he swears he sees everyone's height decrease by a couple inches out of relief alone. Negan groans delightedly and flops backward onto the couch, and Rick's chest does this strange tightening-flip-flopping thing that he doesn't quite understand, all over the realization that Negan actually took the time to listen to him.

Everyone seems grateful, and they have enough supplies to get them through the next couple of nights, so Rick decides that they can stay around for the night. They'll go look for more food and gas in the morning.

Lori sleeps well into the evening, and Carl eventually heads up the stairs to join her. Daryl and a couple of Negan's men spend a great deal of the afternoon gathering firewood from a pile in a nearby shed, and when they return, it's with the ability to produce a strong, warm fire in the fireplace. Daryl stokes it a little, and then drops down into a sitting position on the ground not too far away from it. It and a couple of lanterns strewn about the living room are all the light source they have as the sun drops down and the moon comes up. With it comes the evening chill--a bitter cold that warns of impending winter.

Hershel asks Beth to sing. At first, the blonde is unwilling to do so, but with some persuasion from both Maggie and her father, she's soon carrying the softest, sweetest of tunes all throughout the living room of the home. It's just her voice, the howling of the wind outside, and the crackling of the fire, and it's the perfect combination of sounds. Beth's voice is low and haunting, settling right down into Rick's bones and almost making him emotional.

As Maggie joins in, Rick thinks back to his family before the infection. He thinks to his and Lori's relationship, and how even though it had been strained at times, it was nice at others. He thinks to Carl bringing home school projects and practicing show-and-tell in front of him and Lori. He thinks to Shane and his many offensive comments in the squad car while they worked on patrol together. Thinks to his best friend, his brother--how is Jeff doing anyway? He wonders what kind of life Negan and his men lived before all this mess, and wonders if any of them knew one another before everything went to hell.

By the time the song has ended, Rick's cycled through every single person. The once battered and weak Carol, who now seems to hold a tired strength to herself. Maggie and Glenn, who Negan had at one point nicknamed the 'power couple of the zombie apocalypse'. Daryl, who probably still thinks about Merle on the daily--Rick still feels decently guilty over that. Hershel, a man who has somehow managed to pick up all the pieces of his shattered life multiple times since Rick's arrival at the farm. He's lost everything now, save for his daughters.

They're a mess, but they're somehow making it. And for a moment, Rick allows himself to feel proud. As the others depart to the rooms they've picked out, Negan's men retreating to the downstairs bedrooms, laundry room, and dining room, he tells himself that this is their life now. One day, they'll find a more permanent place--somewhere they can live and not be on the run. But for now, this is where they are. And Rick's not all that disappointed about it.

Either way, by the late night hours, it's just Rick and Negan. Rick's on the floor in front of the couch, his arms spread across the cushions, while Negan's perched in an armchair a few feet away from him. They're both close enough to enjoy the heat of the fireplace, and they do so in silence for several long moments.

At least, until Rick decides to speak up.

"How'd you meet your people?"

Negan inhales slowly, and Rick catches himself doing the same thing. He likes the whiff of firewood and winter air he gets doing so.

"What brought that on?" He asks.

"Just wonderin'." Rick shrugs. "You say you've got a big community back where you come from. I saw how upset you were that so many of 'em died at the farm. They must mean a lot to you. And you talk to Simon and Dwight and Arat like they're your family."

"Hmm..." Negan somehow manages to make even thoughtful gestures look exaggerated. Rick notices this with some level of amusement. "Fucking guess they are my family." He finally answers. "Besides, people are a resource. It was a goddamn shame to see their bodies on the ground out there, lined up like that."

"Yeah." Rick agrees, looking down at his lap. He waits for Negan to continue.

"I met Dwight and his wife--ex-wife--way before the Sanctuary was what it is today. We made a group with a few other people, but it still took us for-fucking-ever to get on our feet. It was a matter of a lot of raiding and surviving and people listening to my orders to get us where we are now. By the way," Rick looks up at him just in time to see the biggest, most devious grin plastered on Negan's lips, "that's why I knew you laying down the law on your people was a good idea. And fucking bonus points for trying to put me in my place, too."

"Trying." Rick raises both his eyebrows.

"Trying." Negan repeats. "It might not look like shit to you right now, but I'm still the man in charge. I can step down for a while--baby bird some knowledge right into that pretty mouth of yours for you until I get back to my people--but in the end, you still belong to me."

Rick looks away, turning his gaze out the window. "You know, sometimes I really like hearin' you talk. But then you keep runnin' your mouth, and I just wish I could sew the damn thing shut. You're a dick, Negan."

Negan laughs. "Thanks for noticing."

Of course he'd say something like that. Rick supposes that any other Negan wouldn't be Negan at all, however, so he doesn't think much of it. Believe it or not, he actually enjoys the guy's company, so he'll honestly take what he can get.

As the night draws on, Rick and Negan spend the hours in conversation. Rick eventually clambers up onto the couch and uses one of the stiff decorative pillows for his head. Negan reclines the chair and folds his hands across his stomach. They continue talking well into the night, clear until Rick doesn't remember where they left off or who fell asleep first. Probably Rick, because Negan could talk himself clean through the night if he wanted to.

Either way, when Rick comes to, the sun's bright and beaming through the windows, and Carl is roughly two inches from his face.

"Dad! Hey, Dad!" He almost sounds alarmed, which rouses Rick pretty quickly. Immediately, his mind thinks the worst. What if something happened to Lori? With the pregnancy? Is there a herd outside? Are they about to face the same situation as they had on the farm?

"W...What, son?" He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and lets out a pleasant sigh when he sees that instead of looking panicked, Carl is grinning.

"Come see what Daryl and Uncle Shane caught! Hurry, before they start cutting it!"

Lately, Daryl and Shane have taken to hunting together. Perhaps it's a repeat of the assignments Rick had given them out on the Greene farm, but they've adapted well to working together. Shane's got impeccable aim, and while Daryl has that much as well, he also has fantastic tracking skills. With Daryl leading the way and spotting the game and Shane staring down the barrel of a rifle, they've done pretty well for themselves.

This time, it's a deer. When Rick sees it, he too lights up, and he rushes out to clap Daryl on the back. Shane pulls them both into a big side-hug.

"We eat good tonight, brothers!"

By now, nearly everyone is standing outside, grinning at their delicious bounty. When split among the amount of people in their group, it really isn't much, but it beats the canned foods and small game they've been living off of ever since they left the farm. They still have enough homemade canned vegetables to last another week or so, but it's always nice to see something like this happen.

"Seriously thinkin' about goin' out there and seein' if I can get us another one." Daryl says, and Rick actually hears a laugh from him. He's reveling in this as much as everyone is, and it's almost scary how lucky they've been over the past couple of days. The mood's shot up like someone's struck it with a hammer at a circus and everyone's reaping the rewards.

Rick wonders what could possibly happen next. Either they're going to keep getting lucky, or something terrible is going to happen.

\- - - - -

He gets his answer later that evening. Night two at the country road house, and Rick, Shane, Negan, and Simon are all gathered around the fireplace once more. It's got to be past midnight--Rick isn't really keeping track anymore--when a sound breaks through their animated conversation. At first, Rick thinks it's one of the women upstairs yelling for them to hush or something, but Shane and Simon immediately rush for the front door.

There are a few painful seconds of deafening quiet, before Shane's expression breaks into a deep scowl.

" _Shit!_ Oh, _shit!_ " Rick takes chase the instant his friend bursts out the door. They sprint down the porch steps and out toward the grass, where two women can be seen. One's got long, dark dreadlocks, a katana strapped to her back, and two armless walkers, mouths cut out, attached to chains that are tied around her waist. The other woman has her arm slung over this one's shoulder and can barely walk. Her hair dangles over her shoulder in messy rivulets as she vomits onto the ground, before turning her eyes up to the men rushing out to her.

"...I knew it..." The woman, despite her obvious illness, smirks.

"Andrea!" Rick and Shane are on her in an instant, each taking a side. The woman next to her sighs, rolling her shoulders, and offers a grim smile to Andrea.

"She kept saying she knew it was her old group staying here." The woman points out as they move inside. "I didn't believe her, but she kept getting sicker and sicker, so I took her advice."

"Good call." Rick says. He doesn't know this person by any means, but he's instantly grateful to her. She's apparently been lugging a sick Andrea around, and that says enough about her. "Is it just...?"

"Us? Yeah." The woman answers.

"This is Michonne." Andrea coughs.

"Don't talk." 'Michonne' says urgently. "Save your breath until we can get you better."

"We've got warmth--a fire." Rick responds. "And water."

"And a doctor." Shane adds.

"Hershel?" Andrea asks, and when Rick nods, she lets out a delirious laugh. "He's a veterinarian."

"I trust him." Rick chuckles with her, and as Simon opens the door, he and Shane bring Andrea inside. "He saved my boy after he got shot in the stomach."

Negan stops Michonne at the door. "No way, sweetheart." He motions to the walkers attached to the chains. "The dead things stay outside."

"They kept us safe." Michonne narrows her eyes. "They can't hurt anyone." She points to one of the walkers behind her with her thumb. Rick casts a glance at Negan, who is scrutinizing the walkers' every inch. They both regard them with the same caution, but Rick figures that if Andrea trusts Michonne with them, they can figure out what the deal is in the morning.

"Put 'em out in the shed." Rick suggests. "None of the walkers I've seen have died in the cold so far." We'll argue about it in the morning."

Michonne seems content with that much. She shoots Negan a cold stare, before she turns and starts back outside.

By now, Simon has gotten a blanket and a pillow for Andrea to lie down on, close to the fireplace. Negan covers her with the one he'd been using for himself, and Rick reaches down to touch her forehead.

"Jesus...you're burning up." Rick frowns, sitting back. "Did you...?"

"No." Michonne answers for her as she reenters and closes the door behind her. "She hasn't been bitten. She's just sick."

"Good." Rick swallows. "Someone get Hershel. He's gonna need to look at her as soon as possible."

Shane nods and disappears up the stairs. Rick gets to his feet and bounds to the downstairs bathroom. He sifts through the rack above the toilet until he finds a washcloth. The house doesn't have running water, so he suffices with one of the bottles of water they'd found in a gas station. Once he's got the rag saturated enough, he moves to Andrea's side once more and covers her forehead.

"Shit, that's cold..." Andrea rasps, and then she's back to coughing. Rick notices how rapidly Michonne rushes to her side.

"It's okay." Rick tries to reassure. "You can rest...she's in good company."

Michonne frowns, but sits down on the couch despite herself.

Hershel arrives soon after that, looking half-dazed after having been awakened out of a dead sleep. He doesn't seem upset though, as he crouches on Andrea's other side, examining her. "What're her symptoms?" He doesn't bother asking Michonne's name as he draws his blue eyes up to meet her brown ones.

"Fever, coughing, and as of a couple days ago, vomiting."

"Productive cough?"

"Not really." Michonne shakes her head.

"Throat's sore as fuck." Andrea adds, and Shane, who has taken a seat not far from Michonne on the couch, laughs.

"Quit runnin' your mouth then."

"Don't they make you keep talking if you're dying?" Andrea counters, but she's soon in the middle of another coughing fit.

"You're not dying." Rick reassures.

"She's not doin' well either, though." Hershel, ever the realist, admits. "She's probably got a cold or the flu--it's difficult to tell. She's going to need something for the fever, at least. And fluids. Without proper medical care, she could die."

"...I don't suppose it could wait until morning?" Simon asks from nearby, and Hershel shakes his head.

"There's no way to tell."

"I don't want to take any chances." Rick interjects, scrubbing his hand across the front of his face.

Hershel looks up to meet Rick's gaze. "You're thinkin' about goin' out now?"

"I don't see another option." Rick answers. "There was a drug store I was thinkin' about lookin' at anyway. Lori needs more prenatal vitamins."

"Might not be a bad idea." Shane says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "If it hasn't been ransacked already, we could find a boatload of shit we need--maybe even somethin' for when Lori has the baby."

"Exactly." Rick nods in agreement. He's already got his mind made up, so he pushes himself to his feet and dusts his knees off. "If anyone goes along, we don't want a big group. Enough to have each other's back, but only use one vehicle. We need all the gas we can get."

"I'll go." Michonne suggests, but Hershel flags her down.

"Has it just been the two of you up until tonight?" He asks, and Michonne nods. "That means you've been managin' her symptoms. You know what to do best until we can get some medicine in her system."

Michonne frowns deeply, but reluctantly complies after a few seconds. With some hesitation, she drops down next to Andrea. "You'll hurry." She says to Rick, who offers her the best, most reassuring smile he can manage.

"I'll go as quickly as I can."

"I'll light a fire under his ass." Negan decides, pushing himself up and out of the recliner he's taken a seat back in. "Could use some fucking excitement, anyway."

"Me too." Shane says.

"Count me in." Simon joins.

"Alright, that's enough." Rick replies. "That should be plenty for the trip. To the drug store and back." He faces Hershel and Michonne. "You two keep minding her fever--do whatever it takes. We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Okay." Hershel answers. "You four be careful. Don't go in if it's overrun."

"We'll manage." Rick answers, still smiling. "Promise."

As he and the other three start toward the door, Rick notices the thankful expression on Michonne's face. There's a lot to learn about the woman, but if she's managed to keep Andrea alive all this time, she'll likely be a strong addition to their group. On the way out to the car, Negan is already buzzing excitedly about how she has a samurai sword.

Guess she has Negan's approval already.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is starting to sound like the skipping of a CD, but I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting.
> 
> And now, the bad news.
> 
> I recently ran into a serious financial and emotional situation, resulting in me needing to leave my current home and try and confront my financial and mental health issues up front. In the process, I'm losing my son for probably two years. If you want more details, feel free to read here: http://neganstonguething.tumblr.com/post/160500433977/this-is-the-hardest-decision-ive-ever-had-to
> 
> But the point is, I'm having to take commissions to put together all the extra cash I can as quickly as possible. This means that commissions take priority over fic. This is devastating to me, since writing fanfiction is often an escape from my depression, but if I want my son back before he starts school (in just over two years), I've really got to get a jump on this.
> 
> That said, I won't stop writing. This story and all my other ongoing ones will continue updating. It'll just be more slowly than I'm already going. Or maybe it won't. I might not have a steady stream of commissions all the time, and during those times, I will work hard to update chapters. But I /need/ my son back, so I'm going to try and operate as quickly as I physically can to get to the point where I can have him again.
> 
> For all of you who are so dedicated to this story and my other ones, I am so very sorry to make this announcement. But I promise I'll keep updating. Writing is still an escape to me--I just won't be able to escape as often as I used to.
> 
> Thank you all so much. I love you and your lovely reviews.


	8. Lucille

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and the others make for the drug store to get Andrea her meds. As per usual, things get hectic, and Rick earns himself a chance to learn more about who Negan is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa man, this was a toughie to write! But all things considered, I'm pretty satisfied with it! I hope you all enjoy it as well. c:

“Welp.” Simon scratches at his forehead in thought as he, Negan, Rick, and Shane all stare out over the remnants of the town they’re about to head into. The place is peppered heavily with walkers, and Rick can tell looking at Simon that he’s starting to think going in isn’t a good idea. “Outlook’s not good here, guys. Don’t suppose you know of any other, less inhabited town in the general area we could explore within the night?”

Rick laughs almost bitterly. “Nope. This is all I got.” Next to him, even Shane is starting to look like he’s having second thoughts. He’s got his thumbs curled around his belt while he nibbles at his lower lip in deep contemplation. Rick knows it’s because he cares about Andrea, but isn’t sure they’re going to be able to get out of this alive.

“The odds here suck ass.” Negan adds. “If we aren’t balls to the wall on one another’s backs, at least one of us is fucked…understand?”

“That mean we’re going in?” Simon wonders, and Rick nods.

“We have to. Andrea’s one of us, and we just got her back. Besides, Michonne’s countin’ on us.” He saw the way her cold stare had wavered a little when Hershel had suggested Andrea might not be able to get through the entire night alive. Rick knows that look. It’s the same look he and Lori had given the man when he’d suggested Carl would be fighting for his life after he’d been shot.

Either way, he rounds on the other three men and raises both hands in a sort of half-assed surrender. “Any of you disagrees, you’re welcome to sit here and wait for us to come back.”

“Nope.” Shane answers. “You’re gonna need all the help you can get in here. Besides, it’s Andrea. She’s been with us since the beginning.”

“She’d do the same for us.” Rick agrees. They both turn to face Negan and Simon, who exchange glances before nodding and regarding the other two once more.

“We’ve already gotten this far.” Negan says. “Like hell am I letting you two get in on all the fucking excitement without me.”

“If he’s in, I’m in.” Simon adds.

“Alright, then.” Rick claps his hands together decisively. “It’s settled then, guys. Let’s figure out how we’re gonna do this.”

Rick has some level of confidence that they can survive this. He and Glenn had been the only two people in Atlanta when Glenn had found him in the tank, and they’d still somehow made it out. The town they’re overlooking right now isn’t nearly as populated as Atlanta, and they’ve got four men. It’s just a matter of making sure everyone is on the same page, and they can still do this.

The drug store is about half a mile into town. It’s visible from their current vantage point, and from the looks of it, it’s not any worse off than the rest of the town. That also means that it might not be any better off either, but all four men seem to be aware of that, so they have a good grasp on what they’re going into.

The good news is that if the town is still overrun, there’s a possibility that the drug store hasn’t been scoured yet, which means the team might very well have plenty of medicine on their hands for a while. However, as they’ve all learned more than once by now, it’s not unheard of for the walkers to travel in massive groups, so this could just be another herd rolling through.

But it’s still worth trying.

Which is why the men soon find themselves working their way into town, knives (and baseball bat, in Negan’s case) in hand and guns at the ready. They’ve devised a plan that starts with being as quiet as possible at first, using silent killing methods until it’s absolutely necessary to break out the heavy fire. The walkers aren’t swarming in thickly enough that they need to do any major crowd control, and if they’re silent enough, they can keep the further ones focused on ambling uselessly around. They’ve got roughly a half mile to travel there, which isn’t too terribly much to take as long as they’re careful.

Even Negan is silent as they focus on their task. He stays attentive and alternates between his bat and knife almost flawlessly, which presents starkly how capable of fending for himself he is. Rick finds himself wondering just how long Negan spent on his own before he rounded up all his saviors, because from the looks of it, it was a while.

He makes a mental note to ask one day.

A block from the drug store, they branch off. The plan is for Shane and Simon to cover Rick and Negan from the outside, atop the roof of a nearby apartment building. It’s got stairs on the outside of it, which they clear the walkers from easily enough. Once they’re atop the roof, Rick and Negan head for the store.

“This way.” Rick nods for Negan to follow him as he slips around to the back of the store. It’s possible they’re going to walk into an area flooded with the infected, so he’s decided he wants to be as close to behind the pharmacy counter as he can get. There’s likely more supplies back there, and they’re going to need all they can get.

Negan’s good cover, which Rick learns quickly, as he scouts the area while the former sheriff works to get the door unlocked. He spends a good handful of minutes trying to do so before Negan shoots him an impatient glare over his shoulder.

“Just blast the fucking lock, Rick. Shit’s gonna hit the fan, anyway.”

Rick doesn’t want to, but he assumes that means Negan can handle whatever attention that might attract, so he backs up, whips out his Colt Python, and blows the doorknob clean off the back door. Afterward, he wheels around, helps Negan clear out the walkers that were alerted by the sound, and then turns his focus back to their entrance.

It’s dark outside, and once Rick and Negan are inside, it’s even more so. The pharmacy, not unlike presumably the rest of the infected world, has long since lost power, so once the door is closed behind them, it’s pitch black. Rick can’t see anything in front of him, and even after his eyes acclimate to the darkness, it’s difficult to make out what any of the outlines around them are.

“Shit.” Negan grumbles from somewhere behind him—Rick’s hearing tells him maybe his eight o’clock. “Don’t fucking suppose you’ve got a flashlight on your person?”

“I wish.” Rick answers, silently cursing himself for not having brought one. They have a couple back at their current house, but in the rush to get to the drug store and find something to save Andrea’s life, all four of them neglected to think of bringing one to a building they’d be searching that would inevitably be dark at night.

“Fuck…alright.” Negan sighs, voice echoing in what sounds an awfully lot like an empty back room, but neither of them can be entirely sure. The anxiety in the whole situation rests around the fact that walkers could be anywhere. Sure, they haven’t heard them yet, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one just lying on the ground or skulking off in some other room.  The thought that Rick could accidentally walk right into one of the things’ grasp makes him nervous, and either Negan senses it or feels the same way, because there’s suddenly a hand on Rick’s shoulder.

Rick tenses a little, but soon relaxes when he feels the warmth of Negan’s fingers through the clothing on his shoulder.

“Oh, come on.” Negan scoffs, and Rick cringes at the way the larger man’s voice booms through the darkness of the back room. “It’s just a way better goddamn idea to stick together until we can find some fucking light, alright?”

“I know.” Rick sighs. “I just didn’t know it was you for a second. You’re right.”

Rick leads them through the darkness, trusting Negan’s hand on his shoulder to keep them together as he fumbles along what he assumes are shelves. His fingers keep bumping against what feel like boxes, and he’s already settled on the decision that he’s going to be raiding through those boxes just as soon as he and Negan find some light.

So far, no walkers, but as Rick manages to follow the shelves and then the wall to a doorknob, he tightens his grip around the handle of his knife in anticipation.

They’re in luck. The door opens up into the drugstore itself, and the windows aren’t boarded, so moonlight floods the area and gives enough light that Rick doesn’t feel as if he’s stumbling around blindly anymore. The smell of death fills his nostrils, soon followed by the hissing and snarling of walkers, but when Rick braces for an incoming attack, there’s nothing in the immediate vicinity. Just bodies wriggling and writhing on the ground, tangled up in sleeping bags. He and Negan quickly branch out to kill off the trapped infected, and then follow the last couple of sounds to a storeroom off on the side of the building. Three more walkers later, and silence falls over the drug store.

Rick can’t shake the fact that it’s all been a little too easy so far, but that doesn’t stop him from getting started. He and Negan exchange decisive nods and both start digging around. Rick jogs for the registers and ducks beneath them, looking for bags. He finds a trash can, still half-full of trash, and casts the partial bag aside, seeking out the roll of bags beneath. He tears out two, plops the roll on the counter, and hands one to Negan.

“So,” Negan starts as he accepts the proffered bag, “we just grabbing whatever we can carry?”

“Yeah.” Rick answers. “Start with cold medicine, fever reducers, all that, and then we’ll take whatever else we can get after.”

“A-fucking-ffirmative.” Negan waves his acknowledgment of Rick’s request with his right hand and then starts scouring the shelves out on the floor beyond the counter. Rick takes the shelves behind it. He hears Negan continue speaking amidst his search. “Either these assholes were too dumb to barricade their doors and windows to keep others from taking their shit, or they didn’t need medicine so much as they needed a place to stay.”

“They might not have been here long.” Rick points out. “Maybe one of ‘em got bit, and they came runnin’ in here.”

“Maybe.” Negan replies. “Sucks to be them, though. We were lucky as fuck that one of them wasn’t on the floor in that back room, at least.”

“Yeah.” Rick laughs dryly. “Pretty sure Lori would have my head if I got killed right after leavin’ her.”

He hears Negan stop moving, but keeps searching, himself. “You left her? You guys sure don’t seem like you just came out of a bad breakup.”

“That’s because it wasn’t bad.” Rick sweeps an armful of ibuprofen bottles into his bag. “We both knew it was comin’. This whole thing,” he only hopes Negan knows he’s referring to the infection in general, “has changed both of us as people. I still love her…I just…”

“No, I get it.” Negan’s voice bears a strange weight to it. “It’s hard to stay with someone who slept with your best friend.”

Rick frowns. “What? This kind of thing happen to you before, too?”

“Not exactly.” Negan shrugs. “For me, I was the Lori in your equation. Except I didn’t just do it because I thought my wife was dead.”

…Whoa. Rick doesn’t know why Negan’s suddenly being so open with him, but he pauses his search to give the other man his full attention once he realizes he’s doing so. Even in the dim lighting of the pharmacy, Rick can see the regret on the other man’s face.

“You had a wife?”

“Yeah.” Negan’s eyes lock on Rick’s. “Cheated on her up until I found out she was gonna die.”

“…she get bit?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Cancer. She died right as all hell was breaking loose.”

Rick doesn’t know what to think. He partly feels like he’s privy to a story that Negan hasn’t shared with many, if any at all. Rick is hit by the thought that he never realized Negan even _had_ a life outside of all this mess. What kind of job did he work? What was his wife like? Why did he cheat on her?

After seeing Negan threaten people with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire, command his people with an iron fist, and proceed to be both intimidating and entertaining at once, Rick’s viewed him as an enigma all this time, and he’s starting to realize that the man standing in this drugstore with him is actually pretty goddamn human. He’s got human issues and human thought processes, and he’s being particularly human right now.

Rick finds that he can’t stop staring.

“…I’m so sorry.”

Negan shakes his head, and just as quickly as Rick saw the humanity in him, he’s back to being that big question mark he perpetually is. A smirk finds its way onto his lips all over again. “None of that shit, Rick. No need in you getting all lachrymose on me over what’s in the past.”

“I wasn’t gonna cry.” Rick snorts.

“Says you.”

And like that, they’re back to work. For several minutes, they operate in silence. Rick has managed to fill an entire bag with not only cold medicine, but packages of gauze, medical tape, wraps, and peroxide. Negan is having similar luck, and when Rick glances back over to see just how all that luck is working for him, he gets that feeling all over again.

It’s too easy right now. Something’s got to give.

He shakes it off again though, and as he places his spoils onto the counter, he hops onto it and takes a seat, his legs dangling over the edge facing Negan. “For the record, I don’t blame Lori for sleepin’ with Shane.”

Negan raises an eyebrow as he turns away from his work. For the most part, it looks like he’s cleared the shelves of damn near anything that was left. Rick appreciates it. Either way, he keeps speaking once he sees the other man has acknowledged his words.

“They both thought I was dead.”

Negan still doesn’t speak. He just ties off the bag and leans back against the end of one of the shelves.

“Why’d you do it?” Rick tries again.

Negan lets out a sigh. “…For shits and giggles, I suppose.” Rick can hear the sarcasm in his voice, so he tries not to take that answer seriously. Thankfully, Negan continues. “If I’m being honest, I don’t remember a damn thing about why I started. Guess that’s just what shitty people do.”

“What was your wife’s name?”

Negan doesn’t look keen on answering, and lucky for him, he doesn’t get his chance. There’s a scream that erupts from outside, and Negan and Rick instantly grab their spoils and start tearing their way out the door.

A girl, probably no older than eighteen or so, is trying to make her escape from a group of hungry walkers. Her shoulder and neck and right forearm both have gigantic, visible tears in flesh that indicate they’ve already gotten their hands on her. She collapses to the ground, and Rick raises his gun on instinct.

“Rick.” Negan’s standing next to him out on the sidewalk, his expression steely, and Rick immediately knows without having to ask what he’s thinking. It’s pointless this far into her struggle, and if Rick were to waste a bullet trying to save her, they’d be fucked. But Rick can’t get out of his mind how that girl could be someone’s daughter. If that was Carl, Rick would’ve already torn his way right into the middle of the infected to save him.

He’s about to pull the trigger when another gunshot erupts from the near distance. Another girl, roughly the same age as this one, has fired out of pure horror alone, and alerted all the walkers in the area that there are still living, breathing people alive and ready for the taking.

“Shit!” Negan’s the first to respond, as one of the walkers rounds on him. He swings quickly, embedding his trusty baseball bat in the skull of one of the rotting infected. Its head smashes to bits without much struggle, and he grabs Rick’s wrist and leads him back inside.

“We broke the back door.” Rick reminds him. “They can get in here—we need to regroup with Shane and Simon.”

“I know.” Negan growls. “I fucking know, okay?”

“And that girl’s out there.” Rick adds.

Negan scowls. “Yeah, yeah—I get it, Rick. Don’t suppose we can communicate to your buddy with the good aim to help manage that part for her, could we?”

“We could try.” Rick knows Negan’s thinking something more along the lines of walkie talkies, but considering none of them have any, that isn’t going to work. They could climb the stairs to the top of the apartments and talk to Shane and Simon themselves, but that would take up a lot of time. So he’s already planning on doing the thing that’s going to draw some heat their way.

He doesn’t wait for Negan to follow him—just barrels out the back door and stands within both viewing and hearing distance of the two men atop the apartment building. “GUYS! HEY!”

“Are you fucking _nuts_!?” Negan roars behind him. “We could’ve figured this out some way else!”

“No time.” Rick starts screaming again, and finally, one of the other men pokes their head out from over the roof of the building. Instantly, he points to the girl and the incoming walkers. Simon’s the one who peered over, but he quickly waves to Shane and then nods in understanding.

All four men have been operating long enough in the end of the world to know exactly what the little communication conveys. Simon and Shane are to cover the girl who just gave herself away while Rick and Negan attempt to get over and rescue her. Negan’s visibly irritated, but somehow, Rick knows he wouldn’t have it in him to leave her for dead, either. They’ve at least got to try.

And so they do. They take off, quietly picking off the walkers in their path, in desperation to reach the girl before she ends up like her friend. She’s not too far away, but the amount of walkers present is increasing in number as shots are fired. Negan suddenly sprints ahead of Rick and seizes the girl by the forearm. He nods sharply for Rick to follow them down an alley.

Immediately, Rick knows this isn’t a good idea, but he’s also aware that Negan’s thinking as quickly as he can. They’ve got to get this girl to safety, and they’ve also got to somehow regroup with Shane and Simon. And then, they’ve got to get out of here.

In another act of quick thinking, Negan whips out his pistol, shoots the lock not unlike Rick had earlier, and kicks the door open. He gestures wildly for Rick to burst inside, and then yanks the girl in after him—

—Or rather, he tries to. Once all three of them are inside, Negan yanks the door shut and rigs up a barricade. It’s as he’s just finishing doing so that he spots something Rick and the girl don’t see. “ _Move_!” He demands, and Rick obeys. The girl, however, is slow to the uptake and soon finds herself victim to infected teeth sinking into the crook of her neck. She screams, and Rick yanks the attacker from her body. As he stabs it in the side of the head and lowers it to the ground, he hears Negan fire a round, and then the girl collapses.

“Shit!” Negan curses as her body hits the floor. Rick knows why. He knows it’s because they just had to shoot a living human being who was probably hours away from becoming a walker, and that they not only did that, but they also just put their necks on the line and separated themselves further from the rest of their team for a dead girl. And now, they’re trapped in some room until the walkers outside either calm down or disappear.

They both know they can’t stop moving now though, so Rick wills himself to brush it off and follows Negan.

“Negan—” Rick tries, because he just doesn’t know what Negan has in mind right now and would really like to know if the guy has a plan of action.

“Fuck off, Rick—I’m working on it.” Negan growls, and even though he’s not looking back to see how Rick’s reacting, he’s shooting Negan a sharp glare anyway. Regardless, he follows him up a flight of stairs and into what looks like some sort of studio apartment, made up entirely of hardwood floor. There’s a dusty window that overlooks the street, where Rick can see the drug store and apartment complex where Shane and Simon are. They’re no longer atop the roof, which elicits a curse from Rick.

“They’re gone.” Rick drags his fingers through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “Negan, theyr’e—”

“Gone. I know.” Negan groans. “I fucking saw. Fuck!” He flops back against the wall and then slides to the floor, resting his head back against the wall behind him. It’s mostly dark inside, but Rick can see the frustration on Negan’s face.

It occurs to him that they left the medicine they’d gathered back at the drug store. With any luck, that’s where Shane and Simon are—retrieving the bags Negan and Rick dropped in their haste to rescue someone who ended up dead anyway.

Rick doesn’t blame him for being irritated, and if he’s being honest, he’s pretty damned upset too. There’s no telling how long they’re going to be stuck here waiting out the walkers, and Andrea’s extremely sick back at the house. It’s not just that Michonne is counting on them—it’s everyone. Andrea’s part of the family, and Rick doesn’t want to see her die.

Eventually, he finds himself sitting against that wall next to Negan.

“I’m sorry.” Rick says. “I just didn’t have it in me to leave her for dead.”

“I know.” Negan sighs. “Anyone with half a fucking conscience would have tried to do something for her. It’s not your fault.”

Rick nods, and then the two of them go silent. Rick thinks about Negan introducing himself in the Greene house, and about the demands he made. He thinks about working on the barn with Negan, and he thinks about how angry he got when Randall didn’t end up being executed so long ago. He thinks about their talk after the fire, and about their conversations ever since. The night Negan caught him after a shower…

God, it’s crazy to imagine the two of them have come this far. Rick doesn’t remember when he stopped loathing Negan, but at this point, he considers him part of the group. He’s not sure what Negan’s going to start expecting from them if and when they do find a place worth living permanently in, but right now, he likes having him around.

Even though he and Lori are separated, Rick finds himself wondering what she would think if she knew about his feelings for Negan. For the most part, Rick’s been able to brush those feelings to the wayside, but in moments like this, when it’s just the two of them, it’s always harder.

And right now, they have until the walkers calm back down to spend their time together. Rick isn’t going to turn and jump Negan’s bones or anything, but he knows there’s something between them. It might just simply be the sexual interest Negan displayed in Rick when he’d seen him after his shower all those nights ago, or maybe it’s something else. Rick doesn’t know, but he keeps whatever thoughts he has about it to himself, because he and Lori had just separated a couple of nights ago.

That’s right. This could very well all be a moment of weakness for him. He and his wife are no longer in a relationship, and he’s already deduced his attraction to Negan, and now that it’s just the two of them, he has a chance. But if there _is_ anything here, Rick doesn’t want to tarnish it by acting too quickly. He still has yet to see how Negan’s going to act once they find a place big enough to fortify and call home. Maybe he’ll go back to his old home, or maybe he’ll reinstate his demands from the farm.

Negan could very well be counting down the days until he can get back to being the big leader he was before everything went to shit. Even though right now, Rick might feel like he’s known Negan for much longer than he has, but he still doesn’t know much about him.  He’s got to be careful, because it isn’t just his own life on the line here.

“…Lucille.” Negan breaks the silence, and when Rick processes the word, he instinctively leans over to glance at the baseball bat perched up against the wall next to Negan. When Negan sees this, he shakes his head. “That was my wife’s name.”

Rick had suspected as much after Negan had told him that he’d had a wife and she was dead. Even though he says he cheated on her, it’s obvious in the way he refers to her that he still loves her. He even went so far as to name a baseball bat after her.

“She deserved someone so much better than me.” Negan continues, his voice low and lost deep in thought. Rick isn’t one hundred percent sure Negan’s actually trying to tell him a story so much as he’s getting this off his chest. “But she chose me, even when she knew I was fucking one of our mutual friends on the side. When I found out she was sick, I never left her side. I realized that all this goddamn time I’d been spending sleeping with someone else, she was right there, developing fucking _cancer._ Sometimes, I wonder if I gave it to her just by being there.”

“Negan, that’s—” Rick frowns.

“Asinine? Complete horsheshit?” Negan laughs bitterly. “I know. But she didn’t deserve cancer like I didn’t deserve her.”

Rick, even after hearing the words Negan has said, still doesn’t feel like he was ready to see the other man like this. Just moments ago, he was thinking about how there was a chance this guy could go back to being the fearless leader he was when they first met, and now, Negan’s spilling his guts, and Rick actually feels kind of lucky to be the one to get to hear it.

He also feels terrible for the guy. Everyone has their regrets, but this is understandably a _huge_ regret of Negan’s.

Without thinking, Rick draws a hand out and covers one of Negan’s with it. He curls his fingers, giving Negan’s hand a gentle squeeze, and lets out a sigh.

“She stayed with you, Negan. She must’ve loved you a lot.” Rick reassures. “I’m not gonna say anything about the cheatin’, but you said you stopped when she got sick. Doesn’t fix everything, but it shows you really cared about her. I’m willing to bet she appreciated having you by her side at that point.”

When he glances up at Negan, the other man’s looking away, his eyes shut and a deep, thoughtful frown on his face.

“I hope she’s met someone perfect up there in heaven or whatever.” Negan says. “And that they’re happy as shit together, and he’s fucking her brains out daily, and then fucking them right back in.”

Rick laughs, and when Negan turns his gaze back to him, he catches a glimpse of a smile on the man’s face. The real reaction comes when he turns his hand beneath Rick’s, though, and laces their fingers together.

“You’re one hell of a guy, Rick.” Negan’s voice is somehow soft and deep all at the same time, and when Rick’s eyes meet his again, he finds that he can’t stop his gaze from dropping down to his lips, and from wondering just how they might feel against his own. They’re a little chapped, but Rick is willing to bet they’re soft.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a loud rumble—one he immediately interprets to be the telltale roar of Daryl’s motorcycle. He releases Negan’s hand and they both jump to their feet, spinning around and peering out the window. Sure enough, Daryl is out there, herding the walkers like cattle down the street. He weaves around stray infected like it’s nothing, and Rick can’t help but grin.

“That son of a bitch followed us.” Rick muses.

“I like your hillbilly friend.” Negan says next to him.

“Look!” Rick points to a spot out the window, where Simon and Shane can be seen crossing the street. “They’re coming, and they’ve got the bags!”

“Holy _shit_ , we got lucky!” Negan cheers. He grabs Lucille from her spot against the wall and then barrels back toward the stairs, and Rick follows.

They exit just as Shane and Simon are coming down the alleyway. There are still a decent amount of walkers scattered about, but with the four of them together, they’ll have no problem picking them off.

“Jesus shit, you guys almost fucked yourselves!” Simon yells.

“Good thing we had you guys and Daryl to save our skins!” Negan roars back.

Shane waves for them to follow. “Talk later, man. C’mon!”

Neither Rick nor Negan protest. They just take off running, close behind Shane and Simon. Rick and Negan operate as cover, taking out nearby walkers so that the other two men can keep their hands on the bags from the pharmacy. The process works just fine, especially now that all four men are on high alert after everything that happened. It doesn’t take them long to make it back to their vehicle on the outskirts of town, and not five minutes after they arrive, Daryl comes roaring up on his motorcycle, too fast for the walkers to keep up. They’re back to ambling about in town.

Rick hugs Daryl outright, and then claps him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Daryl—we couldn’t have done this without you.”

Daryl just shrugs. “Don’t mention it. When I saw you guys runnin’ off, I knew you were about to get yourselves into some shit. Guess I was right.”

“Yeah, you were.” Rick agrees. “So you know about Andrea?”

“Yeah.” Daryl nods. “We gotta get back to her.”

\- - - - -

When Rick and the rest of his group arrive with two bags of goods in hand and everyone alive, there’s actually applause. The sun is just barely rising, and most of the house has risen with it. Everyone’s gathered in the living room, making conversation with one another and trying to keep the mood light for Andrea. They all make way for Rick when he brings one of the bags to Hershel and drops to his knees in front of their resident sick woman.

“How’re you holdin’ up?” He asks her, and he’s met with a tired smile.

“It’s just a cold, Rick.” She makes a feeble attempt at rolling her eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“In this day and age,” Hershel interjects, rifling through the bag and pulling out some cold medicine and ibuprofen, “you can never be too careful.”

“I know.” Andrea sighs, before she offers Rick yet another smile. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yeah,” Rick laughs, brushing some of her hair off her forehead, “I did.”

Hershel helps Andrea to swallow the pills and makes her take a few drinks of water afterward. Once he’s done, he leans back against the wall nearby. “Now, the medicine is for the symptoms and the ibuprofen for the fever. There’s not anything else we can do. We’ll just have to wait it out.”

Michonne turns her gaze to Rick. “Is this your home now?”

“Not permanently.” Rick answers honestly. “But it is for the winter. We won’t be movin’ until I know Lori can survive out there.” He nods to her, and Michonne sighs.

“I just don’t want Andrea going back out any time soon.” Her voice holds an edge of pleading to it.

“That won’t be a problem.” Rick smiles reassuringly. “Tell me…were you the one she was spottin’ out in the woods outside of the farm?”

“I guess so.” Michonne answers. “I was in some woods, outside of a farm when I ran into her, so maybe.”

“Yeah,” Andrea laughs, her voice raspy, “she was the one. She saved my ass—I got outnumbered, and then she showed up, brandishing her big sword and chained walkers.”

“…Thank you, Michonne.” Rick nods in her direction. “We’re so glad to have her back, and we’ll be happy to have you too, if you’ll let us.”

There’s something about Michonne, Rick notices. She’s quiet and stern and definitely guarded. Rick wonders why she keeps two mouthless, armless walkers around her, and why her stare radiates scrutiny. He’s torn between wanting to know what happened to her and wanting to offer her enough comfort that she can relax around him and everyone else.

Maybe one day. For now, though…

“Anyway, I’ve been up all night.” Rick pushes himself to his feet. “I’m gonna go get some sleep.”

“Same here.” Shane yawns and stretches. “You guys think you can hold the fort down until we’re back?”

Carl rolls his eyes. “We’ve been doing just fine while you were gone.”

Hershel shrugs. “We’ll come get you if somethin’ happens.”

Rick nods his thanks. “I appreciate it. Daryl and I will bring in more firewood after some sleep.” He glances at Daryl, who’s perched in the corner of the room, his arms crossed. When the man nods his approval, he turns his focus back to everyone else. “Sound good?”

“Works for me.” T-Dog shrugs.

“You got it.” Glenn adds next to him.

“Alright. I’ll see you guys in a while."

Rick starts upstairs, Shane, Simon, and Negan following behind him. They each claim one of the bedrooms for their naps, and Rick doesn’t know about the others, but the instant his head hits the pillow of that master bedroom, he’s dead to the world.


	9. Capture And Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for a bigger place resumes. Fun is had. A much needed break from the end of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was not what I wanted to happen in this chapter. I had something totally different planned, but as I wrote, I realized I needed to bridge the gap between the previous chapter and the one I had in mind. I'm super excited to have come up with this idea on the fly like I did. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

The winter is harsh and unrelenting. In honor of Lori’s suggestion and the pleas of the many other group members, Rick agrees that they should stay in the big old farmhouse for the course of the winter. During the earlier half of it, everyone pitches in to keep the place fortified. Daryl, Shane, and Rick spend a great deal of their time gathering wood and hunting. Once deemed healthy enough to assist (and by her own stubborn determination to be of use), Andrea helps Michonne, Glenn, and Maggie on runs. Hershel, T-Dog, Negan, and the remaining Saviors focus on repairs to the house. Lori, Beth, and Carol balance housework, laundry, and food rationing amongst one another, while Carl assists with chores wherever he may be needed.

All in all, things operate pretty smoothly. By the time the winter settles in and sleet and snow make their icy appearances, they have enough firewood to keep the house warm for the entirety of the season and enough food to last well into the winter. On warmer mornings, Rick and Shane and Daryl still hunt, but for the most part, it’s just a matter of staying indoors and waiting for spring to show itself.

Which means a lot of up close and personal interaction with a lot of different people. Rick gets to sit and talk with everyone. He and Carol finally have a heart-to-heart about everything that happened on the Greene farm, and it sure feels like they’re on good terms. He finds himself seeking out a strong friendship in not just Shane, but also Daryl. He has always held a lot of respect for Hershel, but now that they’re working together in such close quarters, he does even more. Hershel is full of sage advice and interesting sayings. These are all things Rick takes to heart.

Yeah, he’s the boss. Yeah, he makes the calls. But that doesn’t mean his call is always the right one, and if there’s anyone Rick trusts to tell him when he’s not making the right call and _not_ be biased, it’s Hershel.

Rick comes to friendly terms with Simon, Dwight, and Arat. As it turns out, Dwight and Negan aren’t necessarily on the same level, and it’s through him that Rick learns that his wife, Sherry, is now his ex-wife and one of Negan’s wives. According to Dwight, she volunteered to marry Negan for their sakes, but that still seems a bit cruel. Crush on Negan or no crush on Negan, Rick can’t help but feel like that kind of step was a little uncalled-for, even for a guy like Negan.

This is the same guy who threatened Rick and Hershel with their lives if they didn’t comply to his demands, after all. But at the same time, it’s also the same guy who elected to journey with them after the Greene farm ended up destroyed. Rick naively hopes that under some stretch, he and his people have influenced Negan positively. It’d be nice for them to not be enemies.

Rick does a lot of wondering about Negan and the world he’s left behind back ‘home’, wherever that is. Does he miss his wives? Does he miss the rest of is people? Is he collecting from other people at the same time? If so, how’s that all going now that he’s been gone for months? Do they know whether he’s coming back or not? Hell, is his old place still standing?

It’s strange, how Negan can be so cruel and at the same time so earnest. Rick can tell he’s always been the same sarcastic asshole, even back when he was married to Lucille, but was he always this selfish? What influenced him to give up on everything and turn into the power-tripped guy he is today? Or maybe, was before he met Rick and his group.

Rick spends a lot of time with Negan, but he never quite manages to bring himself to ask these questions. Most of their conversations are nothing but small talk, and even though Rick’s curiosity gets the better of him when he’s winding down to sleep at night, he rather enjoys not having to have a serious conversation with the guy. Negan’s actually a blast to just sit and bullshit with, which is something they do a lot.

Shane and Negan have warmed up to one another ever since their little suicide mission at the drugstore. Shane gives Rick shit for being so reckless over someone they don’t even know, and Negan joins in. Rick defends himself, and they laugh. It’s strangely light-hearted, though. Rick’s irritated in the moment, but he gets over it, and rather enjoys the dynamic. It’s kind of fucked up that he considers the guy who tried to kill him and the guy who threatened to kill him close friends, but a lot in today’s world is fucked up. Nothing is ever going to be the same.

The strange situation has long-since enlightened Rick to that.

And it makes the entirety of their cold, slippery winter easier to tolerate. Nights are spent up stoking fires and having conversations over beers found during runs or hot chocolate made from discovered baking cocoa and sugar. Negan calls it ‘a bunch of guys busting each other’s balls’, but when Maggie joins in, Rick finds with plenty of amusement that she does most of the ball-busting. Her sharp words are directed more at Negan than anything, but Negan takes it in stride. A sort of ‘fair enough, I earned that’, and the night goes on.

It's so relaxed, it almost doesn’t feel right.

But Rick supposes that’s because they’re going to have to find something else once the winter passes. The search for something bigger and better is going to be a bittersweet one just as much as it’s going to be a difficult one. In many ways, this place has become something of a home. Rick doesn’t plan to ever fully abandon it, even if this place is just an outpost they use when they go on longer runs or something.

They need something bigger—something easier to fortify and _keep_ fortified. Otherwise, he’d cave in to the others’ wishes that they just stay until this place crumbles like the Greene farm. But when the Greene farm crumbled, they had nowhere to go. They can’t go through that again. Especially not with Lori much further along now 

She’s got to be at least seven months, and as spring finally works its way out into the open, it shows. Her gait changes, and she balances her weight differently, her hand resting comfortingly atop her belly. She looks happy at times, but Rick can also tell she’s scared at others. Who wouldn’t be, though? Delivering a child without access to a hospital and minimal medical care has to be a scary thought.

Rick truly believes that nobody here can understand what she’s going through, either. None of them are going to have to do this. But on the flipside, they all try to support her. She’s always got a protective presence beside her, be it Rick or Shane or Andrea, or someone else. Even Negan has offered her a blanket during colder nights or guarded her when they were outside.

Whatever they can do to make sure she gets through her pregnancy, they’re going to do.

Rick’s separation from Lori is permanent, though they’re doing well to remain close friends. Every now and then, things get a little uncomfortable, but they’re learning to move on. Carl has long-since been made aware of the situation, and he handled it surprisingly well. No blaming himself, or asking if there’s any way his parents could stay together. He seems content, and Rick finds himself both proud of his son and feeling sorry for him.

Carl is so mature, and even though Rick does give his upbringing some credit for that, he also feels as if his son hasn’t been given a choice. He’s not even in his double-digits yet, and he’s had to shoot walkers, watched people die, and lost places he called home countless times. His extended family’s welfare is unknown, which means that Rick and the group is all he has left. And somehow, he’s been strong enough to take that in stride.

Lori and Shane maintain a comfortable distance, too. After a long conversation with his ex-wife, Rick has learned that it’s not because of anything between them. Lori just doesn’t think it would feel right to jump into anything like that anymore. And surprisingly, Shane agrees that they don’t really have time to be rekindling any feelings, anyway.

The situation regarding the baby is still up in the air, though. Rick’s mostly certain the baby is actually Shane’s, but he longs to care for it like it’s his own, and Lori agrees. The harsh ‘it’s Rick’s even if it’s not’ mentality, however, has long-since faded. Shane has made a couple quips about ‘his child’, and Rick and Lori have tried to be understanding about it.

It isn’t until the night before they’re about to resume their search for a permanent home that Rick finally decides he and Shane need to talk it out. It’s finally gotten warm enough that it rains without freezing, and Rick and Shane have decided to take on the task of loading sleeping bags up into vehicles. They’re not all going out searching—just a handful of them. If they find anything worthwhile, they’ll bring everyone back and settle in. There’s no point dragging Lori out if they’re not going to find anything.

At present, the group is comprised of Rick, Shane, Daryl, Negan, Simon, Dwight, Arat, Glenn, Michonne, and Andrea. Everyone else is to remain at the house. Hershel elects to stay just in case something happens with Lori’s pregnancy.

Rick loads the last sleeping bag into the hatchback of one of the two cars, and then slings the lid shut. He claps his hands in satisfaction and pivots, moving away from the vehicle. Shane’s staring off into the horizon, his expression difficult to read.

It’s just the two of them, so of course Rick takes now to talk to him.

“It’s crazy, huh?” He starts.

Shane doesn’t turn to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“This whole thing.” Rick laughs. “Us. Makin’ it through the winter like that, goin’ off lookin’ for someplace better.”

“Yeah, man, maybe.” Shane shrugs. Rick takes some relief in the smile that worms its way onto his friend’s face. “But if anyone can do it, it’s us. And you’re right, brother. We’re gonna need a bigger place.”

Rick smiles too. “Yeah. This house is big, but not big enough. And it’d be nice if the baby had enough room to move around when it gets here.”

“Yeah.” Shane agrees. Rick notices how he goes silent, there.

“…How do you feel about that whole thing?” Rick finally dares to ask.

There’s a long silence, before Shane bursts into breathy, exasperated laughter. He finally turns to regard Rick, shaking his head. “I’m fuckin’ excited. It’s crazy, what Lori’s doin’, bringin’ a kid into today’s world…”

“Yeah.” Rick nods. “…You know, there’s a pretty good chance that baby’s actually yours.” The words hurt to say, but as Rick speaks them, he also gets the feeling that they’re absolutely necessary. “What do you want out of that?”

There it is. That bitter look that Shane wears so well. He’s glaring at the ground all of a sudden, as if it’s guilty of something. “…Well, I sure as shit don’t just want to be the goddamn sperm donor, Rick.”

In a way, Rick kind of feels like he deserves that response, so he takes it with a grain of salt. “You know, there was a time when I would’ve disagreed with that, which wasn’t fair. At the time, I’d thought you were dangerous, and you _were_ , Shane.” He tries to ignore the pointed glare the other man shoots him. “But you… _we’ve_ come a long way. I’m sorry for feelin’ like I did at the time, but I don’t anymore. You don’t have to just be anything, okay?”

Shane frowns. “…I want to be the father.”

“You _are_ the father.” Rick says. “But I’m not gonna lie, Shane…after spendin’ so long bein’ so sure I was gonna raise this baby, I’m damn attached to it, too. I feel like I’ve got some fatherly rights here. A lot of them.”

“You know I wouldn’t have slept with her if I knew you were alive, right?” Shane suddenly asks, and Rick sees the desperation in his friend’s face. Shane doesn’t show weakness often. The closest to it Rick had seen was on the night they’d gotten into their fist fight. This kind of desperation hurts to see. Not unlike Rick and Lori and everyone else, Shane just wants everything to be alright.

 _This_ is the Shane Rick had been best friends and partners with during their days on the force.

“I know, man.” Rick throws an arm around Shane’s shoulders, pulling him into a side-hug. “I get it. Doesn’t matter anymore.” Rick and Lori have both made Shane aware of the fact that they’re separated, but that’s not what he means here. He’s trying to put it away, like water under the bridge. It’s not like they have any other choice than to move on, anyway.

“You know, we can both raise the baby.” Shane adds after reciprocating the hug. “Lori’d probably appreciate the shit outta the help. I just want to be included, man. I _deserve_ to be included.”

“Yeah.” Rick nods. “You do.”

Everyone’s going to need plenty of time to get over what’s happened over the course of the past several months, but Rick feels better after his conversation with Shane. He feels like he’s made progress, and he feels like when Lori does give birth, there won’t be as much confusion.

He imagines the newborn will get plenty of attention, anyway. People left and right are already gushing about names and who’s going to take care of it during which times. Lori is often swarmed by helpful, smiling faces, so Rick doesn’t have a doubt in his mind that the baby will grow up loved.

Either way, now that everything is packed, the two men head inside. They’ve got a long day ahead of them in the morning. Rick takes his usual spot on the couch, with Negan snoozing nearby in the recliner and Simon passed out in front of the fireplace on the floor.

\- - - - -

Searching for a place is far more difficult than any of them could have been ready for. The morning chill is relentless, but the day grows warm as it drags on, and with as much running around and looting everyone’s doing during their trip, they’re sweating before they’re even halfway done with their first day.

It’s only day one, but to Rick, it’s disheartening that their search hasn’t turned up anything different from what they’d already found in the past. Just convenience stores, dilapidated buildings, and enough rain to wash out every flood plain in the county.

At the end of the day, they take shelter in a run-down bowling alley, rain-soaked and grumpy. Thankfully, the windows are boarded up, so all they have to do is search the place and barricade the doors.

The bowling alley consists of the main room, a couple of storage closets, a dusty arcade, a kitchen, and restrooms. Daryl opts to make rounds about the perimeter, while everyone else raids the kitchen. A rather frustrated Rick decides to retire to the furthest storage closet. It’s small on the inside, but Rick’s definitely camped out in smaller. He pushes metal shelves around until he has a decent-sized corner to himself and tosses his sleeping bag unceremoniously onto the ground.

Of _course_ , it wasn’t going to be that easy. Rick should’ve known better than to think they were going to find anything on their first day, when they’d been searching for weeks before they’d found the farmhouse they’ve been staying in. And in a way, he did know. The more logical side of him did, at least.

Regardless, here he is, all shades of fucking disappointed. It’s just frustrating. They haven’t had it as rough as they did before Otis led them to Hershel’s farm, and everyone’s getting along swimmingly considering the circumstances, but none of it feels permanent. Rick feels like they’re going to be on the run for the rest of their lives, and nobody is ever going to know what stability actually feels like ever again.

He thinks back to Maggie’s speech about that very subject—the one she’d given back at her father’s farm. How she’d been afraid they were going to run around endlessly, going from place to place, and eventually die. He wonders if she’s frustrated now. After so long in that farmhouse, she’s got to be just as concerned that Rick is that they can’t stay there forever.

Despite his pessimism, Rick tries to remind himself that it’s going to be alright, and that maybe tomorrow’s search will turn up something better. He smooths his sleeping bag out and lies down on his back. Before he realizes it, he’s fast asleep.

He dreams of days on the force, Shane playing pranks on him when he comes back from lunch or the bathroom. Of himself and Lori and Carl sitting down for professional pictures. He dreams about Carl’s first day of grade school, and the time he brought a Christmas diorama home. He dreams of when he and Lori and Carl attended church, and of birthday parties and nights out at the bar with Shane.

And then Negan is there. He’s at the bar, flashing Rick a big grin. Shane’s laughing, because he sees it. _“Careful, Rick—you’re givin’ yourself away, there!”_ his friend warns him, as if Rick isn’t even married to Lori. _“Either that, or go talk to him. You’re makin’ me uncomfortable, man.”_

Lori’s out on the bar’s dance floor, moving around freely. She’s got everyone’s undivided attention as she steals the show. Rick can’t help but feel like there’s a sense of catharsis to her movements, as if she’s been set free somehow. On one particularly languid spin, she turns and faces Rick, smiling warmly at him, and then she nods toward Negan encouragingly.

Rick’s heart suddenly starts pounding so loudly that he can hear it.

As he snaps back into reality, however, he realizes that it wasn’t his heart he was hearing. It was Negan, who now has the door to the storage closet wide open and is grinning broadly down at him, a bottle of amber liquid clutched in his right hand.

“You’re not gonna believe the fucking booze stash we just found, Rick. This shit is monumental—c’mon!”

Rick can still faintly hear Shane’s voice from his dream as he swallows a lump in his throat and takes Negan’s hand.

_“Either that, or go talk to him. You’re makin’ me uncomfortable, man.”_

Good god.

The stash Negan is so excited about actually turns out to be quite a lot. Whoever was staying here before them had either not valued their alcohol much or not known it was there, because stocked away in a metal cabinet in the kitchen are two shelves full to the brim of different types of alcohol. Whiskey, tequila, beers…it’s all here. There’s enough that they can enjoy it tonight and then have plenty to take back to the farm when they return home.

Rick figures it’s probably not the best idea to drink too much without a big water supply, but everyone else has already started in, and he’d honestly feel a little awkward not doing so, himself.

As if sensing Rick’s thoughts, Negan suddenly throws an arm around Rick’s shoulder and offers him the bottle he’s been clutching. “Today sucked, but tonight doesn’t have to be piss fucking poor, Rick. Have a drink or two.”

Negan’s warm. He’s not drunk yet, but he’s still warm. The kind of warm that after searching around in a cold, early spring rain, feels soothing. The kind of warm that he wants to bury himself in. He smells like leather and rainwater and the alcohol swishing around in his bottle. There’s probably traces of it on his tongue.

Rick feels so strangely intoxicated by the thought alone that he allows his judgment to slip and grabs the neck of the bottle from Negan’s hand. Cheers erupt around him from Negan and everyone else as he throws his head back and takes a large shot of the beverage. It burns all the way down his throat and into the pit of his stomach, and after going so long without any alcohol, Rick grimaces visibly.

But then he clears his throat, hoists the bottle into the air, and lets out a cheer of his own.

And it’s all downhill from there. Dwight finds an old battery-operated cassette player with a mix tape still inside and cranks it up as loud as it will go. It’s a terrible idea, considering the enemies that lurk outside, but no one cares to pay it any mind tonight. It really doesn’t get that loud, anyway. The echoes are reserved for the main room of the bowling alley, so even Rick deems them safe enough.

The only one who doesn’t seem too crazy about participating is Michonne. Andrea brings her a drink every now and then and sits with her, but for the most part, she seems a little bored of the situation. Maybe untrusting of it.

Rick takes a seat next to her. Not unlike Andrea, he holds out the bottle of liquor he’d stolen from Negan. “…What’re you thinkin’ about?” He asks her.

Michonne turns her head to look at him, her expression flat up until she sees something in Rick’s face that makes her lips quirk up in curiosity. “Not a whole lot, really. Do I look that deep in thought?”

Rick laughs. “Yeah, you do. I mean, at least in comparison to all this.” He motions with his bottle to everything going on around them. Glenn and Simon are singing their loud, out-of-tune rendition of _Livin’ On A Prayer_ into the necks of a shared tequila bottle, while Andrea, Dwight, Arat, and Negan all cheer them on. Daryl’s seated in one of the booths, whittling away at something in his hands. Even he has some difficulty containing the look of amusement (or maybe secondhand embarrassment) on his face.

Michonne releases a sigh that’s barely audible over the commotion, but Rick picks up on it and gives her his attention once more. “Maybe I am thinking.” She says. “This just seems so strange…so out of context. We shouldn’t be allowed to do this kind of thing—not after everything that’s happened.”

Rick feels like there’s more weight to her words than she’s allowing herself to convey. More meaning behind what she’s giving him. He frowns, but decides not to push. “You know, I kind of agree with you. But it’s not like we’re gonna be able to stop these guys. And there’s only so much one group of people can take seriously. I’m havin’ a blast. You should too.”

Michonne flashes him a grateful smile, but the expression falters when someone swoops up behind Rick, snatching the bottle from his hands.

“There you are with my drink, you little shit!” Negan howls, and when Rick wheels around, it’s just in time to see the look of shock on his face. “Holy fuck, you drank so much of it too! Fuckin’ dick.” He doesn’t seem half as angry as his words convey, though. And if Rick’s being honest, he doesn’t give a damn how much of the bottle he’s had. It isn’t like Negan hasn’t taken anything from him, after all.

“There’s plenty more, Negan.” Rick snorts. “Don’t be a baby.”

“Indeedily-fuckin’-do, there is.” Negan agrees. “Let’s go have a look, babe.”

_Babe?_

Jesus.

Rick ignores the sly look on Michonne’s face as Negan tugs him out of his seat and toward the kitchen once more. He feels something in the pit of his stomach, growing and fluttering like the stuffing rolling around in the Build-A-Bear machines at the mall. It’s exciting, and by the time he and Negan reach their destination, he’s grinning.

And Negan sees it. The larger man spins around just as they reach the metal cabinet, and the dopey grin on his face only widens when he locks eyes with Rick.

“…The fuck’s that look for?” He chortles. Rick realizes he’s more on the inebriated side now. They both are. Especially considering how much Rick has had to drink. He’s not overly drunk, but he’s definitely feeling the warmth from it.

With his giddy drunkenness and his weird butterflies, Rick feels like a damn teenager on prom night.

“This is just so awkward.” Rick laughs. While Negan rifles through the glass bottles in the cabinet, he leans against the table and just watches the other man. “Out there, the dead are walkin’, and here we are, drinkin’ booze and partyin’ like one of our friends are gonna be married the next day.”

Negan stands upright, a bottle of tequila in hand. As he cracks open the lid, he moves to stand across the table from Rick. He takes a swig, and as he offers the bottle out to Rick, clears his throat. “Let me ask you something, Rick. When’s the last fucking time you got to do something like this?”

Rick feels the lopsided smile on his lips. He holds the bottle in his hands and looks away thoughtfully. “We met a guy at the CDC who had drinks there, but partying? Shit, it’s probably been years.”

“Exactly.” After Rick takes a drink and offers it to Negan, he smirks, then raises the bottle to his lips. He swallows and places the drink on the table. “You’ve earned it, baby. Enjoy it.”

“Baby.” Rick laughs. In a more sober state, he might not have allowed himself to question it, but right now, his lips are pretty damn loose. “What’s with that, all of a sudden?”

Negan shrugs. “Don’t tell me I’m not allowed to give you nicknames, Rick.” He licks his lips, and the sight makes the build-a-bear stuffing machine feeling start up again. “Damn, your eyes are so fuckin’ blue. They’re all glassy from drinking. You look like a goddamn work of art.”

Ever the modest man, Rick accepts the compliments with a drunken blush and a gaze fixed hard on the table between them. Stiffly, he takes a swig of the alcohol atop the surface. “…Thanks.”

The night draws on like that. Faintly, the sounds of walkers outside can be heard, but the noise doesn’t draw many of them in. They got lucky, everyone supposes, to not have ended up with a herd nearby.  The temporary residents of the bowling alley are free to enjoy their night. Even Michonne gets pulled out to dance with Andrea, and it’s probably well past midnight by the time everyone either passes out or decides to go to sleep.

Rick, three sheets to the wind, retires to his trusty storage closet. He doesn’t realize Negan’s following him until he moves to pull the door shut and the larger man catches it in his fingers.

“Hey, easy there.” Negan laughs. “Don’t tell me you don’t want some fucking company.”

“Wouldn’t mind it.” Rick manages, before he flops down on his sleeping bag. Negan’s isn’t in here, so Rick isn’t certain he actually plans on camping out in the storage room with him, but he makes room for him regardless. It makes him feel a little less drunk to have the corner to lean against, anyway. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to try and go to sleep until I sober up a little, anyway.”

“Yeah?” Negan smirks. “Well, you’re probably right there, Rick.”

The men go silent, before Rick speaks up. Negan’s always been a good outlet for venting. Ever since Rick told him about Lori outside of the burned-down remains of Hershel’s barn, he’s confided in the man for a lot of things. And now, he’s confiding in him again.

He sighs and closes his eyes, willing away the dizziness that plagues him as he does so. “Shane and I talked about the baby.”

“Oh, yeah?” He hears the curiosity in Negan’s voice. Somehow, Negan sounds less drunk than Rick. Fucking asshole, what kind of tolerance does this guy have? “How’d that go?”

“Pretty smoothly, actually.” Rick laughs softly. “I mean, he was a little mad that I’d thought to leave him out of the family in the first place, but once he saw that I was plannin’ on bringin’ him back in, he warmed up to the idea real quick. I feel like I crossed somethin’ by talkin’ about it.”

Negan pauses, and then clears his throat. “You’re gonna have to explain that one, Rick.”

“Well,” Rick continues, “Shane and I made up months ago. Got our shit sorted out and have been workin’ on bein’ cool with each other ever since. I feel like showin’ him that I acknowledge the baby could be his, we’ve made some ground. It’s less stressful, y’know?”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Negan nods, and Rick doesn’t realize he’s slumped up against Negan until he feels the gesture when the other man does so. “Speaking of making ground…you always come to me for advice. That mean we’re building something wonderful, here?”

“Are you serious?” Rick sits back so that he can look Negan in the eyes, incredulity present heavily on his features. “You were callin’ me baby five minutes ago, and now you’re askin’ me that?”

“It was just a fucking question.” Negan says amidst a shrug. “A fair one, too, our interesting past all taken into consideration. Not that it matters, because I think you like me calling you baby.”

Rick raises both eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yep.” Negan wets his lips, and all too late, Rick realizes he’s moving in closer. “And you know what else I’ve noticed?”

Rick doesn’t respond. He’s too caught up with staring Negan straight in the eyes. And then there’s the warmth of the larger man’s big hand on the side of his face. The parting of those red, red lips.

“Your accent is thicker when you’re drunk.”

And then Negan kisses him. Even in Rick’s drunken state, he feels the gentle pull of the man’s hand on the side of his face, drawing him in closer. Lips meet, and then part, and then meet again. It’s slow, languid, and Negan holds it at a steady pace. He tips his head, sighs pleasantly into the kiss, and nips just barely at Rick’s lower lip.

And Rick’s devouring the feeling. His hands have at some point found Negan’s chest, and Rick can feel his own fingers stammering against the fabric of the man’s shirt.  His body lights up like a damn Christmas tree, and just when he thinks he’s about to get to celebrate, Negan breaks off the kiss.

He’s smiling—legitimately smiling. “…That’s as much as I can bring myself to do without feeling guilty.” He says. “Trust me, I want to fucking tear you apart right here in this closet, but you’re drunk.”

Rick blinks, for more reasons than one. He’s partly disappointed that Negan decided to stop there, and also really impressed by his reasoning. As Negan keeps speaking, he becomes even more so.

“If we’re gonna do anything, it’s gonna be sober first. Gotta know you’re as into me as I am you, baby, and it’s not just the alcohol talking.”

Oh, Negan, if only you knew.

He surprises Rick yet again with a kiss atop the forehead, and then stands up to leave. Rick watches him depart the room, his mouth agape.

Did…all of that really just happen? Rick’s flabbergasted, to put it lightly. Yeah, he’s attracted to Negan, but he hadn’t been ready for any of that to come to light here in a fucking bowling alley. Hell, if he’s being completely honest, he hadn’t expected to act on those feelings for a long-ass time. Not until he was certain the other man would reciprocate.

But here Negan was just a few moments ago, making the first move.

Rick’s heart is pounding for real this time, and he decides it’s time to go to bed. He’s going to have one hell of a hangover to nurse in the morning, and also a long day searching again.

He takes some comfort in the fact that he won’t be the only one suffering, and he hopes to hell that Negan’s hungover, too.


	10. Sanctuary

“…Is this for real?” Andrea’s mouth hangs wide open in shock and amazement, and frankly, Rick’s right there with her. Hell, he’s sure none of them can really believe their eyes right now. Two weeks into spring and they’ve managed to find something incredible. Something that Rick’s been hoping for ever since they left the Greene farm. Something big enough that people can actually stand a chance at building a life for themselves, and something they can fortify and protect.

A sprawling prison. The group had split off into two smaller groups. Negan, his people, and Glenn were in one, which left Rick, Shane, Daryl, Michonne, and Andrea in the other. Rick’s group had found a railroad track and followed it. It hovered over dense tree lines and valleys, but there was a clearing. And through the clearing, they all could see it—the big prison towers, and the reinforced walls.

“Looks pretty real to me.” Daryl grumbles in response, though Rick can tell he’s just as pleased about the sight as they all are. Grumbling just seems to be his default tone of voice.

“The hell’re we waitin’ for then?” Shane’s got a big, dumbfounded grin on his lips, but Rick doesn’t blame him. They’ve found it. They’ve found what they’ve all been looking for.

Rick’s heart leaps as they move to round up the other group, and his mind prays for it not to be too good to be true. They’ve earned this, damn it. After so long of trying to make it, they’ve earned this. Lori could be due any day now, and even though none of them would have dreamed of living inside the walls of a prison before all of this, it’s basically an answered prayer now. The cells should all have beds, and the prison has to have a kitchen. Bathrooms, showers, enough land to start a garden, and enough room for Carl to run free…for the baby to live a full life.

Once everyone’s back together, Rick takes the lead, driving them around to what he’s hoping is the front entrance of the prison. His heart leaps as they get closer. It’s even better than he could have imagined—the gates are still up, and the walkers peppered along the inside tell Rick that this place is probably uninhabited.

 It’s going to be theirs even if someone else is already here. It’s big enough that they’ll do just fine sharing.

Rick cuts the engine and hears the others do so behind him. He bounds to the gates. The layout of the prison is pretty simple. The walkway is guarded by a fence on either side, and surrounds the actual prison yard. Across said prison yard is the gigantic prison itself, a guard tower, and their sanctuary. Rick’s heart is in his throat, bubbled up by an excitement he hasn’t felt in so long.

It doesn’t take him long to hatch a plan at all. Nor to put it to work. Before he or anyone else can have any second thoughts, they’ve pried open the carabiner holding the gate shut and Rick is bounding inside, armed with his revolver and an axe. His goal is to make it to the guard tower nearest the prison building, and to pick off the walkers in the prison yard from there. He’s got everyone else either making enough noise to draw the walkers away from him or helping to kill them off from a safe distance. The enclosed gravel walkway seems to be a good means of doing that.

After the whole ordeal with the drugstore, Rick knows he’s got this in the bag. Negan, Shane, and Simon are all fantastic cover, and Rick already knows he can trust everyone else. It doesn’t take him long, because he doesn’t have to stop much to hack away at undead skulls, and soon enough, he’s wrenching the tower door open and ascending the stairs to the top.

It’s all downhill from there. Walkers crumple like old foundation in an earthquake, and the rest of the morning is spent dragging them out of the yard and burning them off in the distance. By afternoon, they’re ready to take the next step.

Which is a daunting one. The yard is blocked off by yet another fence, and beyond that fence lies the prison building. The building itself contains more than twice the walkers that were in the field, all crammed into a significantly less spacious area. But beyond that unnervingly-sizable cluster of infected lies the entrance to their chance at a future—the prison building.

“I dunno, Rick…” Glenn tries, looking pensive. “There are a _lot_ of them. And if there’s a bunch out here, that can only mean that there are even more inside. Prisons were overcrowded _before_ the infection, as it is.”

“We’ve seen worse.” Rick answers, though Glenn’s suggestion doesn’t go ignored. “You and I were able to face a _herd_ , remember? In Atlanta.”

“Rick.” Glenn frowns. “We didn’t face that herd. We dressed up like it and hoped our way out of the picture, and even then, we ended up getting the shit rained out of us. We just…I think we’re going to need more people.”

“I don’t think so.” Simon’s scratching at his chin as he ponders the situation. “We have a lot of us, which means a ton of potential angles. We find some way to navigate in there where all of us have eyes on a different angle and we can take them out, no problem.”

“Still…” Michonne’s brow is creased as she too thinks heavily about what’s going on. “There’s no telling how this is going to go. It could get bad.”

“But we should at least try.” Andrea adds. “It’d be nice to be able to clear this place out and just bring the others in and be done with it.”

“I agree.” Rick nods defiantly. “We’re already here, so we should at least give it a shot. We see any red flags, we can back right on out and figure out what to do from there. But for now, I think we should try and power through.”

Negan claps a hand on Rick’s shoulder. “I’m with Rick on this one. Guy’s gotten us this fucking far—I’m pretty sure he knows what we’re capable of.”

“I do.” Rick feels himself swell with pride, a smile tugging at his lips as a result. “And I’m happy to say it’s a lot. We finish this now, and we’re halfway there. This could be our _home._ ”

In the end, he gets his way. The plan is not unlike it was to get through the field. Rick, Negan, Shane, and Glenn form a sort of back-to-back-to-back-to-back formation, giving them all an angle to watch for walkers at. The rest, which Rick agrees is a lot, stays at the entrance to the fence, guns raised, ready to pick off the stragglers. The goal is to get to the nearest door, find their way inside, and secure a place for everyone to sleep.

“Careful.” Glenn warns. “I see riot gear. That’s gonna be tough to get through.”

“We’ll figure somethin’ out.” Shane growls. “Always do. Just keep your focus.”

“I know.” Glenn sighs.

And then they’re moving. It’s methodical and almost practiced, the way they move. Rick and Shane, having come up with the formation, move in perfect unison. Glenn, as practiced and agile as he is, follows along without a problem. Negan, however, isn’t used to not taking the lead, but does decently along with them. They’ve all got their own unique skill set—Rick, with his tactical ingenuity, Shane, with his impeccable aim, Glenn, who is quick both in thinking and in action, and Negan, with his cunning and fast decision-making. They blast right into the fray, seemingly without a problem.

For a while, it’s a flurry of gunshots, knife stabs, hatchet swings, and the obnoxious ‘clunk!’ of a pointed baseball bat against the sunken, rotting flesh of the undead. People from the sidelines keep the crowd manageable, while Rick and his little snowflake formation of a group scurry their way toward the prison building.

But when Rick stumbles on a piece of rubble, it gets hairy. Negan yanks him up by the underarm, but by then, the walkers are swarming in even more quickly.

“Get it to-fucking-gether, Rick!” Negan roars over the snarls of the infected and the rain of gunshots. “We don’t have time to pick up slack!”

Rick just nods his thanks for Negan helping him back up and whips out his revolver, shooting two of the closer walkers down point blank. An arrow lodges into the skull of one of the approaching ones, and it crumples to the ground right in front of Rick. He reminds himself to thank either Dwight or Daryl later, and gets back into formation.

“Stab up and under the helmets!” Glenn suggests. “I’ve killed two of them that way now!”

Rick hears the ‘swish’ of Negan pulling his knife from its holster, followed by the rough squelching of metal passing through rotted bone and tissue and muscle. Negan cheers aloud as his victim collapses in front of him.

“Fuck yeah, I knew you were good for something, pizza boy!”

“I’m good for a lot of things.” Glenn retorts.

At this point, it’s no shocker that they manage to clear out the walkers and make it to the prison’s door. Rick shoots off the metal padlock on the door, and then works his way inside. The rest of the group joins the other four soon enough.

“…Holy shit.” Andrea mumbles, wide-eyed. “I can’t even hear any walkers.”

“Same here.” Rick agrees. “Doesn’t mean we’re out of the water, but gives us hope.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much.” Arat thinks aloud next to Negan. “We killed a lot of deadies back there—some of them were police, and a whole shitton of them in prison scrubs. Overcrowded or not, we put a dent in the population of whatever lived here before us.”

They pass through a main room. It’s covered in filth and there are a few bodies with bullet holes in their foreheads, but there are benches and tables, and Rick can see the entrance to a cell block from here. Considering the fact that there aren’t exactly bedrooms in a prison, the cells are what’s going to operate as sleeping quarters, with plenty of room to get around everywhere else.

He’s swelling with excitement at this point. It’s been a long time since he’s last been able to give anyone good news.

“…Well.” Negan smirks, casting a glance right at Rick—one that makes his stomach do backflips. “Looks like it’s time to start picking beds and clearing walkers the fuck out of them.” He furthers his point by wrenching open the door to the very cell block Rick had spotted.

In Rick’s honest opinion, it’s all a little too good to be true. After so long searching and struggling, and after watching Hershel’s farm burn down in a sea of walkers and embers, everything remotely pleasant seems too good to be true. The cynic in him can’t help but wonder when Lady Luck is going to squat down and start pissing on them all over again, but the optimist sincerely hopes she’s decided to pick a different rest stop for a while.

He feels a little less suspicious when he sees that they still have a lot of work to do on their new home. The cells and beds within are pretty dilapidated from months of underuse, and he and Daryl and Negan spend a great deal of time killing off infected locked inside said cells and then dragging bodies out to be disposed of. The prison is filthy, but with plenty of upkeep and repairs, this is probably the best chance they have at survival.

“We can find medical supplies here.” Rick thinks aloud. “And food. Lori can have the baby here, and we can all live our _lives_.” He feels giddy—worried, yes, but mostly excited. He doesn’t have the heart to shoot it down with too much pessimism, and apparently, he’s not the only one.

“Yeah, maybe.” Glenn beams next to him. “I can’t wait to show Maggie.”

“About that.” Dwight adds. “It’s gonna take us a while to get everyone else back here, and if someone happens to find this place while we’re gone, we could end up fighting over it.”

“We _will_ fight over it.” Negan joins in. “We’re not losing a golden fucking opportunity like this one.”

“We’ll just split up, then.” Rick shrugs. “We’ve got enough people that it shouldn’t be a problem. Glenn, you and Michonne and Andrea can go.”

“I’ll go, too.” Shane says. “Worried about Lori makin’ the trip.”

Rick understands, considering Lori hasn’t traveled in a long time, and there’s no telling how it’s going to be with her this far along. “Okay, sounds good. Who else?”

“I’ll go.” Arat says. “It’s gonna be weird if we get there and Negan’s not with us. The Saviors will believe me if I explain what’s going on.”

“I think we’re past not believin’ each other.” Shane replies.

“Better safe than sorry.” Arat bites back curtly.

“I’ll be your backup, Arat.” Simon steps forward.

“That’s fine.” Rick nods. “That leaves Dwight, Negan, Daryl, and me here.”

“Isn’t that a little uneven?” Andrea asks.

“In numbers, yeah.” Rick responds. “But we can handle it. We’re not gonna do anything new until everyone’s here. For the next couple of days, it’s just guardin’ perimeters and holin’ up in these cells.” He turns to face the other three. “Agree?”

“Sounds about right.” Negan says, and Dwight and Daryl both shrug in concurrence. “Take both vehicles—make it look like nobody’s touched this place so people don’t get any bright ideas while you’re gone.”

“We’re gonna need both anyway.” Andrea agrees.

And like that, it’s just the four of them. Dwight and Daryl get to work on cleaning the cells, while Rick and Negan each take a guard tower and focus on watch. It’s quiet, and kind of lonesome, but Rick’s glad to finally have something worth guarding. Here in a couple of days, this place is going to be a bustling home full of happy residents. And any time, there will be a new baby here, ready to grow up in a potentially safer world.

Rick wonders what Carl is going to think about it. They never really got to discuss with him what was going on with Lori and the new baby. Carl had just learned it by ear, and while he had initially been a little angry that his parents hadn’t explained the details to him, he’d grown on the idea. Every now and then, he brings up the potential of names or genders or what kind of food the baby is going to eat. What his or her favorite colors are going to be, and if he or she is going to like to do the same things he likes to do.

Rick sees hope in him. He sees Carl wanting to be a big brother, and wanting to see what the future holds for his new sibling. Rick doesn’t think he ever hit a point where he didn’t want to grow up in today’s world, but it’s still nice to see the boy have something to look forward to. A child is a gift. Carl is. His new brother or sister will be. They give this world purpose.

And Carl isn’t the only one, either. Daryl’s been protective toward Lori ever since she started to show, and Shane and Maggie and Beth are even more so. They make sure she watches her health and how much she lifts, and how long she exercises for. They ask her how she’s feeling enough to make her beg them in frustrated outbursts to give her some space. They discuss their opinions with her about the new baby.

Hell, even Negan has displayed a heavy amount of interest in how a baby is going to affect the new world. Rick remembers overhearing him speaking with Lori one night a month or so ago. The conversation was light, but the words heavy and meaningful. Lori looked as if she had grown less uncomfortable around Negan. This had brought Rick an odd sensation of relief.

 _“You’re gonna have to somehow find the time to teach it to hold its head up, and to eat table food, and to wipe its own ass, all the while keeping it safe from the end of the world.”_ Negan had said. _“You decided to keep it, knowing that, and that means you’re braver than the average motherfucker. You’ve got bigger balls than testicular cancer.”_

What’s going to happen now? Rick’s got ample amounts of optimism, but there’s nothing that can stop him wondering about how things could go badly, too. If another group—a bigger, more vicious one, kind of like Negan’s—were to happen upon them, they’d have to fight for their territory. Or if their exploration of the prison went awry and they discovered something they couldn’t fix, they’d be screwed. There’s just as much that could go wrong as things that could go right.

But Rick chooses to keep his chin up. From his post right now, everything is coming up roses. The walkers are all outside the prison gates, and they’re in small groups. They’ll eventually have to figure out how to hold back a herd from in here, but they’ll cross that bridge soon enough. Right now, it’s just a matter of getting everyone together again.

Rick casts a glance across the prison yard to Negan’s post, and his stomach drops when he sees that the other man is no longer there. What the fuck? Where’d the guy go? Maybe he had to piss or something, but Rick figures he can never be too sure.

“Fucking Christ.” Negan’s voice pops up right the fuck behind Rick, and so suddenly that it makes him jump visibly and wheel around, pointing a gun at the other man.

“ _Don’t_ do that.” Rick growls.

“Sorry.” Negan surrenders both hands. “Just got bored as hell over there. It’s not crowded enough that we need to take opposite posts. Besides, I know you want my company.”

Of course Negan chooses then to wink at Rick and remind him of everything that’s happened between them.

Or rather, a certain _one_ thing.

No, Rick hasn’t forgotten what happened at the bowling alley. Not a second of it. He was pretty drunk that night, but he remembers it in vivid detail. Everything from sitting down and talking to Michonne while listening to Glenn and Simon sing in terrible key with one another to hiding away in that closet with Negan and having his accent complimented.

And no fucking shit, the kiss. Rick still remembers exactly how it felt, and how he’d wanted more. He remembers Negan being the one to pull away, and all out of respect for his boundaries. His absolute insistence that Rick be one hundred percent sober and willing before they take anything to any levels.

Negan’s tongue had tasted like the sickly sweet burn of alcohol, and his breath hot and inviting against Rick’s lips and nose and cheeks. He’s still certain he wouldn’t have minded just spending that entire night making out like that, but at the same time, he appreciates Negan’s patience with him. Negan had left the room, probably because he knew his urges would be easier to fight off from a different place, and Rick’s attraction to him had only intensified in the process.

He’s not sure these feelings are a good idea, still. It’s been months since he and Lori split up, but Rick just…wants to make sure he gets this one right. He still doesn’t know much about Negan, and he doesn’t know what’s going to happen once everyone gets settled. On top of that, even if everything does work out well and Rick and Negan somehow ended up in a relationship, Carl would have to know eventually. That’s a delicate matter that Rick needs to think about how to confront before he takes anything anywhere.

He just needs to be careful.

“You’re so full of yourself.” Rick groans, moving to rest his elbows on the rails of the tower’s edge. He watches a walker stare aimlessly into the fence, before turning and shuffling sideways along it, as if looking for a different way in.

“I just know what’s what, is all.” Negan answers calmly, a response Rick isn’t terribly surprised to hear. “But it’s really just more that I know you’ve got to be bored out of your fucking skull over here. It’d be different if there was something to shoot at.”

“There are walkers.” Rick points out. “Shoot one, you’re bound to attract more.”

“And bring in a herd?” Negan scoffs. “You think I’m fucking stupid, Rick?”

“I’d hope not.” Rick grins the other man’s way.

It’s strange, how even though they’d had that moment that night in the bowling alley, things aren’t really all that different between them. They’re still as friendly as ever, and the only time Rick really gets uncomfortable around him is when he decides to make a pass at him. It’s a little different, since Negan has been repeatedly making passes at Rick from the very beginning and he’s always been able to ignore them until now, but they’re still friends.

Or well, Rick considers them friends. He’s not sure what the hell is going on in Negan’s mind. Frankly, he’s not sure he _wants_ to know.

“Look,” Negan continues, “it’s just better that I’m over here. Keeps me from wanting to kick shit over there with how goddamn quiet it is.”

Rick just shrugs.

\- - - - -

Day wears into evening, and eventually, evening becomes night. Once the sun sets, Rick and Negan return to the cells, where Dwight and Daryl have managed to make themselves comfortable. Dwight is fast asleep, but Daryl perks right up when the two men enter. They find themselves on the receiving end of a crossbow being pointed at them, but he lowers it soon enough.

“Our turn?” Daryl questions, realizing it’s probably his and Dwight’s shift now.

“Yeah.” Rick nods, while Negan approaches the cot Dwight has made by the stairs and nudges him with his foot. The stringy-haired blond rouses immediately, though he doesn’t look happy about it.

“Alright.” Daryl shrugs. “How’s it lookin’ out there?”

“Not a damn thing.” Rick laughs. “You guys could probably fall asleep and it wouldn’t be any different.”

“That a promise?” Dwight asks sleepily.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Negan raises an eyebrow.

“Joking.” Dwight simply responds, before he and Daryl head out.

Once the two men are gone, Rick and Negan separate and look about the area. Dwight and Daryl have made quite a dent in the cleanup of the cells. There’s a broom propped up against the side of the stairs, and a pile of dirt and leaves and trash swept into the corner of the block. Prison beds are cleaned off, but still looking damn filthy. Rick figures the two men opted out of sleeping on them for the sake of being more alert just in case things went sideways, but he decides he’s just going to toss the sheets from Dwight’s cot onto one of the mattresses and get semi-comfortable.

Which turns out to be one hell of an idea. Rick and Negan bunk in the same room, Rick taking the bottom bunk and Negan taking the top, and they find they both appreciate actually having a somewhat soft surface to lie on. Maybe one day, they can find better mattresses to sleep on, but for now, this is honestly good enough.

Sleep doesn’t come easy, though. For a couple of hours, Rick and Negan find themselves staying awake, engulfed in conversation with one another. But they both know they’re going to need to rest to be ready for the hard work that they’ll undoubtedly be putting out in the morning, so Negan bids Rick goodnight and silence falls over the otherwise empty cell block.

But Rick still can’t sleep. He rests, awake, for at least another hour, before he decides to take a walk. He hears the echoing of his footsteps in the musty block, looking about the area. The very empty area. An area that will hopefully be inhabited by family and friends within the next couple of days.

The entirety of the day, Rick has been waffling back and forth between disbelief that they’ve come this far and delight in the very same fact. He can’t wait to see what happens in the future, and he’s dreading it all at the same time. He’s not certain he can bear to see things fall apart another time, and the strain it had on everyone the last time was almost too much. Rick doesn’t have much sanity left, and he doesn’t think many of the other people do, either. This is something of a last effort, and to see this one shot down would hurt something fierce.

He stops about midway along the first floor and stumbles forward, resting his right hand and forehead against the cold concrete of the wall there. A sigh escapes him as he turns and slides down, sitting on his ass on the ground. His head moves to rest back against the wall, and he closes his eyes.

Rick doesn’t know how long he’s there, but he does know that he soon has company. Negan’s body is warm against his, and his hand all the same atop Rick’s. When the former sheriff feels the contact, he lets his eyes flutter open and turns his head to regard the larger man next to him.

Negan just smirks softly at him. “What? The concrete feel better than an actual fucking bed to you?”

Rick shakes his head. “…Just couldn’t sleep. Been thinkin’ about a lot, I guess.”

“I know.” Negan laughs. “You won’t stop fucking talking about it.”

“Sorry.” Rick snorts.

Negan squeezes his hand. “No, I get it. Everything you’ve said makes sense. I just can’t believe you’re losing sleep over it. Come back to bed, Rick.”

“…Is it weird that I’m not tired?” Rick smiles curiously up at Negan, and when his stomach does a flip, he has to resist the urge to look away. “I can talk about it all I want, but my mind won’t stop racin’.”

“I don’t think it’s too crazy.” Negan replies. “Just kind of sucks, because I was just about to pass the fuck out when you up and left, and it’s like your presence leaving sucked the air clean out of that room.”

Rick frowns. Maybe Negan didn’t mean to word it that way or something, but it sounds awfully suggestive. And he hasn’t forgotten the words Negan had said on that drunken night…

_“If we’re gonna do anything, it’s gonna be sober first. Gotta know you’re as into me as I am you, baby, and it’s not just the alcohol talking.”_

Okay, so yeah. He’s probably intentionally being that suggestive. But Rick doesn’t have the heart to assume, so he instead just lets Negan continue speaking.

“Guess I’ve gotten kind of used to having you right there, y’know?” Negan resumes. “And with us being the only two in here, I got real fucking lonely. So come back to bed, Rick.”

Rick bites his lip.

“If it helps, we can share one.”

Rick snorts. “They’re barely even twin-sized.”

“Don’t fucking care.” Negan retorts. “Do you know how many inmates have banged it out with their prison bitches on those beds? It’s possible.”

Rick brings both hands up in surrender. “Fine. Just stop with the mental images. I gotta sleep on that thing.”

“You’re a big boy.” Negan laughs. “You’ll live.”

And then something crazy is happening. He’s reaching back up to take Rick’s hand into his once more. He touches it to the side of his face, and Rick feels the scratch of his beard beneath his fingers. He dares to brush his thumb through the coarse hairs, and then there’s a shift, and Negan’s straddling his lap.

The kiss is somehow slow and heated all at the same time. It’s got to be in the gentle guidance of Negan’s lips. The way he pulls back and compels Rick to lean forward, and then in how he’s pushed slowly back against the wall and Negan’s kissing him with everything he has. This time, Rick doesn’t taste alcohol, but he still feels that warm, welcoming hot breath. Negan’s chest is against his, and his hands fisted in Rick’s jacket, trembling fingers unrelenting in their shaky grip.

Rick doesn’t know how, but somehow, they find their way back to their cell, Negan atop him on the bottom bunk. His mouth is on Rick’s neck and his fingers wound tightly with those on both of Rick’s hands. Their bodies rock together heatedly, and Rick’s almost useless beneath Negan’s body as the larger man grinds him into oblivion. The friction is so simple, and yet so heated. It’s perfect, and Negan only makes it better when he drops a hand down to work open both their pants and tug their erections from their flies.

“Negan…” Rick groans, the name like velvet on his tongue, as his arms slide around Negan’s back and his fingers dig into his partner’s shoulder blades.

“I got you, baby…” Negan pants back, fingers curled around both their cocks. His body rolls freely against Rick’s, and he already knows he’s not going to last long. “You feel so fucking good…”

Rick isn’t sure what compelled him to just let Negan take the plunge with him like this. Maybe his judgment is a little clouded from all the luck they’ve run into over the course of the past day or so, or maybe it’s just been a matter of time. Either way, this is good. It feels good. Rick’s melting in the other man’s touch, and he’s so lost that he can’t even take the time to think that at one point, this guy was threatening him with his life.

He comes apart before Negan, but after a few more thrusts, Negan’s losing it too, hot release messy and sticky on both their shirts. Negan’s kisses find Rick’s lips, and he all but melts into the contact all over again. It’s strange, but he could probably go all over again if Negan wanted to.

Instead, though, the two men fumble their clothes back on and Negan lazily throws an arm around Rick’s waist, and they fall asleep right there on that tiny mattress together.

\- - - - -

_“The hell’re you askin’ me for!? Fuck if I know where they came from!”_

_“Well, there’s only two of ‘em, so they can’t be too dangerous.”_

_“It ain’t that, man. They don’t look like cops, and they don’t got scrubs on, neither.”_

Rick doesn’t recognize the voices speaking, and they’re close enough that it doesn’t feel like a dream, either. What feels like a dream is the warmth pressed up against his own body. Negan’s still fast asleep next to Rick, but the voices, no matter how hushed, won’t be able to talk without waking him eventually.

When Rick opens his eyes, he sees a group of men, all in prison scrubs. They all look tired, frazzled, but not starving. If the uniforms didn’t tell Rick they’ve been in here since the infection started, he honestly wouldn’t know what would have.

But he’s not taking any chances. Rick immediately finds his gun, scoots back up against the cell wall, and points it at the biggest man in the group. With his free hand, he shakes Negan by the shoulder.

“Negan! Get up!”

“Man, put that down!” A lanky man standing next to the tall one throws both hands up. “We ain’t gonna hurt nobody!”

“Whathefuckisgoi…” Negan turns his gaze to the men standing in the doorway to their cell, and in an instant, he sits bolt upright, paranoia getting the best of him. “Who the fuck are _you_ people!?”

“Funny you should ask.” A geeky-looking man says, an unsettling grin on his lips. “We’re trying to figure the same thing out about you.”

The click of a gun behind the group tells Rick that Daryl and Dwight have found them.

“We asked first.” Daryl growls, crossbow aimed at the back of the shortest man’s head.

And like that, they’re in a standoff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey look, I finally got to the prison arc! 
> 
> At present, I'm planning on writing this clear through the current storyline, and I've got big plans for relatively soon, but knowing me, that might all change. We'll see how it goes. Thanks again so much for reading this!


	11. Breaking and Entering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long! Between Regan week and my two jobs, I've been taking a lot longer to keep up. Rest assured, this fic is nowhere near abandoned! 
> 
> Just a quick heads-up: I changed some background stuff about the prisoners in this arc, and the events that surround them. I have my reasons for doing so, though they're obscure and probably difficult to notice. I'll eventually explain, but for now, I hope this change doesn't take away from your enjoyment of this fic.
> 
> I spent a lot of time wavering on this particular chapter. It's so different from most of the other ones that it almost felt out of character for me. I promise the show will continue to get on the road with this work, though. 
> 
> Anywho, enough of my blubbering. Enjoy!

For the briefest of moments, Rick genuinely finds himself feeling desperate. He clings to the hope that a handful of men in prison scrubs aren’t about to take this place away from them. Sure, there are only a few of them here, but what about the rest of the prison? What if outside of this cell block, there are prisoners just waiting to drop the bomb on Rick and his group? What if he just unknowingly led the rest of his people into danger?

Daryl’s stern gaze is unwavering, though, and after Rick’s few seconds of panic, he reminds himself that Dwight and Daryl made it back to the blocks unscathed. Perhaps they aren’t out of their own leagues right now.

Next to Rick, Negan has somehow managed to fumble over and get his hands on Lucille. The two men make haste getting out of the old prison bunk and stare their visitors down.

“Look, man,” the lanky one next to his tall friend says, “we don’t mean any harm. You people just show up in here outta the blue, and we figure it’s a good idea to see what kind of guys you are. That illegal?”

The men exchange glances with one another. Rick lowers his gun, but Daryl’s crossbow remains trained on his opponent’s back. Rick doesn’t make him bring down his weapon.

“...No, fair enough.” Rick sighs. “We’d have done the same if the situations were different. Have you been here this whole time?”

The group spends some time conversing with one another. Eventually, Daryl drops his crossbow, though he still seems leery. They learn that the prisoners have been in the walls since the beginning, and also that they’re unaware of what the infection has done to the people outside. Apparently, a nicer guard let them out of their cells when all hell broke loose, gave them a place to hide, and took off. They’ve been living off of the prison’s supplies ever since.

Which brings about another interesting point. These people have food. Rick and the others do too, but their supply is dwindling heavily. His immediate thought is that he needs to find a way to convince these prisoners to share some of their surplus. Not because he thinks they don’t need it, but because he has a family to support. They come first, even if these strangers are friendly.

In his mind, he can already hear Shane suggesting they just take over, and if Rick is being honest, he doesn’t trust these guys yet. He doesn’t know them. The messy-haired guy claims he got jailed for armed robbery, but only had a water pistol on him, and the one named Oscar is apparently in for breaking and entering. The short one with long hair, Tomas, seems a little on edge, and the other two, Big Tiny and Andrew, Rick doesn’t know what to think. Big Tiny seems nice, but he’s a man of few words. Andrew refuses to leave his side.

It could be as easy as taking what they want and leaving these guys with no choice but to comply, but what would happen then? The only way Rick could utterly prevent retaliation would be by killing these guys. He can’t help questioning the necessity of such a move, though. He avoided killing Shane, after all, and things are almost normal between them now. So what’s to say they can’t work something out with these guys?

They seem to want to be peaceful enough, too. They direct Rick and the others on a tour of the parts of the prison they have access to, including the dining hall and kitchen, as well as the food storage. The scraggly-haired guy, Axel, seems to enjoy making conversation. He and Negan exchange light-hearted jokes during their trek.

All seems well, until they return to their cell block. Just when it seems like the prisoners are about to bid their goodbyes, Oscar speaks up.

“The thing is,” he starts out of the blue, “this block has been where we’ve slept most nights. We’ve shown you we ain’t gonna hurt you, so it’d be great if you just, y’know, found a different place to sleep.”

Rick narrows his eyes. “Sorry, but we can’t.”

“You’re gonna _have_ to.” Tomas sneers, and Daryl advances on him the instant he perceives a threat.

“No,” Negan joins in, “we’re not. We got people coming--enough people to fill this block damn near full. You fuckers can find somewhere else.”

“Now, wait a goddamn minute.” Oscar snarls, and Rick raises his gun. There’s a long silence, before Oscar speaks again, staring straight down the barrel of Rick’s revolver. “I ain’t never begged for my life. Ain’t about to do so now, so you do what you gotta do.”

Rick scowls. “My _family_ is comin’. I got a baby on the way. We _need_ this place. Look, I’m sure we can work somethin’ out, but I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“So you’re just gonna kick us out?” Andrew pipes up.

“Isn’t that what you were gonna do to us?” Dwight questions.

“No, they’re not.” Negan growls. “Because this place is ours, now.”

Rick doesn’t lower his gun. He does, however, nod toward the exit to the cell block. “Why don’t we come up with some sorta compromise? You have food, and we need food.”

Axel smiles. “We give you food and you leave, then?”

“No.” Rick shakes his head. “Give us half your shit and we’ll help you clear out another cell block. You stay away from us, and we’ll do the same for you.”

“This fuckin’ place was ours first, asshole!” Tomas snaps. He advances on Rick, and Rick shifts the barrel of his gun so that it’s facing him now, instead of Oscar.

“Doesn’t matter now.” Rick says. “We’ve got people comin’. More than enough people to take you down if you try anything. So half your shit and we help you find a new place, or we end up killin’ you and take all of it.”

Rick ignores the way Negan whistles next to him. He’s probably popping some sort of boner over how like him Rick sounds right now, so it can wait.

Even the calm, placid Axel seems irritated now. He glares at Rick, shoulders squared. “...Fine.”

Oscar, Tomas, Andrew, and Big Tiny all look shocked by this. Axel just shrugs.

“Our hands are tied.” He says. “They’re gonna have us outnumbered soon.”

“They don’t now.” Tomas points out.

“No.” Big Tiny shakes his head and extends an arm out, as if trying to block his friend from doing anything. “We ain’t gotta do this.”

“Like hell, we don’t.” Tomas retorts. He brushes past his friend’s hand and snatches up Rick’s hatchet from its spot propped up against one of the metal doors leading into a prison cell.

It all happens so fast. One minute, Rick’s following Tomas with his gun, and the next, everyone is scrambling around everywhere. Daryl fires his crossbow downward and the arrow goes straight through the back of Tomas’ knee. He yowls in pain and drops to his other knee. Behind him, Andrew lunges and catches Rick by the wrist. On instinct, Rick fires his gun, sending the bullet into the ground, where it ricochets off the concrete and embeds itself into a nearby wall. He brings a knee up, slamming it into Rick’s stomach, and Rick soon finds himself on his knees in front of Tomas. The two exchange glares, just as Negan introduces Lucille to Andrew’s skull.

“ _Shit_!” Oscar screams, and he slugs Negan hard across the face.

Rick sees Negan hit the ground and moves to help him, but Tomas stops him by reaching an arm out and yanking him back down onto the ground. Rick’s face hits concrete, and he turns up his gaze just in time to see Tomas raise the hatchet.

An arrow in the back of his head stops him short, though. He collapses, dead, and in his wake is Dwight, crossbow raised. Dwight immediately moves to do the same with Oscar, but Axel and Big Tiny are quick to bring their hands up as if waving a white flag.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Axel pleads, eyes wide. Rick glares daggers at him from his spot on the ground. “We didn’t mean for any of this to happen. We’re not your enemies.”

“Says you.” Negan barks. Rick glances at him just in time to see him wipe blood from the corner of his mouth. “I don’t fucking recall deciding you asshats were my friends.”

“Look,” Axel sounds frantic, “we’ll take your deal, alright?”

“ _Axel_.” Oscar growls. “These assholes killed two of our group.”

“I know.” Axel responds, and then nods to the dead men on the ground. “But those two attacked first. Tomas was gonna chop one of them up with an axe.”

“And he had a _gun_ on us.” Oscar snaps. “We had this place first--we ain’t givin’ it up.”

“No, we aren’t giving it up.” Axel bites back. “We’re sharing it. This prison is huge, and there’s enough food to feed a small army for months. Three of us will take ages to get through it. We can spare it, and they’ve offered to set up a place for us. It’s the best we’ve got, because they’re clearly not going anywhere.”

Rick gets to his feet as the air finally returns to his lungs. “That’s right. And you are to come nowhere near this block once we get you set up.”

Oscar doesn’t look agreeable, but the other two seem relaxed enough.

“Fine.” Axel concedes.

Rick doesn’t trust these guys with weapons, so as they descend into what feels like dark prison catacombs, he, Negan, Dwight, and Daryl are the only ones armed. Daryl and Dwight take up the rear, with Axel, Oscar, and Big Tiny in the middle. Rick and Negan take the lead, hatchet and Lucille raised.

How these guys went so long without knowing about the infection is beyond Rick. The dark prison hallways are teeming with walkers. Rick and Negan are hard at work killing off the impending undead, clear down the hall. Daryl picks up some of the slack, while Dwight keeps his weapon focused on the three prisoners.

It seems to be going smoothly enough. The men all operate according to their pre-planned method, but none of them are ready for a door to fly completely off its hinges as they pass by it, and for a decent-sized group of walkers to come pouring out. One of them gets its hands on Big Tiny, sinking its teeth into one of his arms.

“Fuck!” Rick curses when he sees the wound. He and Negan get to work clearing out the walkers, and once the last one falls, Axel and Oscar swoop in on their friend.

“Shit!” Axel screeches.

“Man, shut up!” Daryl whispers. “Keep quiet or you’re gonna bring more of ‘em in.”

Axel shoots him a glare, but returns his focus to Big Tiny. “You’re not bleeding very badly...that’s a good thing.”

“No, it’s fucking not.” Negan scowls, and then nods to Dwight. “You’re gonna have to kill him, D.”

“Excuse me?!” Axel barks.

“Bites are how this shit spreads.” Negan snaps.

“We’re all infected.” Rick is quick to inform this time. “The bite speeds up the dyin’ process. He’s a dead man once he’s bit.”

“...Bullshit.” Oscar tries.

Big Tiny joins in this time. “...I believe him. He ain’t got a reason to lie about this. It don’t matter, anyway. If the world really is endin’, then I’m good.” He shrugs. “Not like gettin’ outta prison was gonna happen any time soon, either.”

“Man,” Oscar sighs desperately, “you can’t give up like this! You’ve still got us.”

“I don’t have Andrew.” Big Tiny reminds him, and the deep sadness on his face makes Rick wonder if there hadn’t been something going on between the two. “And I don’t wanna turn into one of those things.” He motions to the dead walkers lying on the ground. “They look like zombies or some shit.”

“You can’t be serious.” Oscar begs. “We just met these people, and you’re gonna believe them.”

“They’ve been out there.” Tiny answers.

“Guys.” Rick interrupts. “Worry about it later. Let’s keep movin’ before more of them find us.”

The men all seem to be in agreement there, and they continue their trek down the halls. It doesn’t take them long after that to find their destination, which is surprisingly empty. They have to clean a few walkers out of the cells, but soon enough, the entire block is clean. Considering the sacrifice made for it--Big Tiny--it seems a little unfair that the cleaning of the actual block wasn’t difficult at all.

Rick at least appreciates that these guys seem to know right away that they don’t have a choice but to kill these things.

As Rick helps Axel drag the corpses out, the two engage in a serious discussion. Rick still doesn’t trust him, but feels he is entitled to an explanation about what has happened outside of the prison. He tells him about the CDC, and about everyone he’s seen turn right before his eyes. He’s honest and open, and by the time he’s done, Axel seems to have calmed down significantly.

“...He’s really gonna die, huh?” He says, and Rick notices how heavy his voice sounds. He feels a little regret for being so hard on these guys initially.

In the end, Axel and Oscar decide not to kill their fellow prisoner for now. They choose to take a little more time to process everything, but when Dwight offers up a knife, they promise to finish the job eventually. They remain in their new cell block, leaving Rick and his group to retrieve the food they were promised. But soon enough, said food is packed away in an empty cell in Rick’s block, and the men finally have their peace. Within a handful of minutes, Rick and Negan are high up in one of the guard towers for their watch, canned mandarin oranges in hand.

And with the quiet, Rick’s mind begins to wander. He thinks about everything that’s just happened--about how it hadn’t taken much for his group to kill off two of the prisoners who had greeted them that morning, and about how the rest of his own people are probably well on their way here by now. He thinks about what kind of reactions everyone is going to have to seeing their new home, and about which cell would be a good room for the new baby. He wonders how Carl and Lori are doing, and if they’ve run into any trouble during his absence.

And he thinks about Negan. About how he all but melted into Negan’s embrace the previous night, and how Negan had been so comforting and inviting. How starkly different that demeanor is from how it was when the two of them had first met. How this is the same man who had threatened to kill people if they didn’t comply to his rules back at the farm, and how Rick’s attraction to him has clouded his judgment--how easy it is to make excuses for that.

Not that he knows where to go from here with it. It occurs to Rick that he’s been married to Lori for so long that he doesn’t really recall how the early part of a relationship even works anymore. And at the end of the world, too, it’s even more different. There weren’t any dates or admissions of feelings with Rick and Negan. Things had just...happened between the two men.

Does Rick want this to go anywhere? Shit...he doesn’t know. He hasn’t taken much time to think about it. In a way, he feels as if avoiding anything too relationship-esque is a good thing. Rick has to remind himself that this man may still try to subjugate his people.

Or maybe he won’t.

But Rick can’t be sure. Negan still has the Sanctuary, and he still talks about it. And he still has people there that he cares about. Wives. What does that make Rick?

It’s strange, how quickly Rick’s mind tells him he’s being selfish about this whole thing. He really doesn’t know Negan, or the reasons behind his decision to marry these women. At the end of the world, you don’t really have to provide one, but circumstances nowadays really are different. But so far away from the Sanctuary, Negan’s affections have sought out Rick, and hell, that kind of makes him feel a little bit special.

...Is he really sitting here, stewing on this? Rick mentally scolds himself, because his crush on Negan honestly isn’t important right now. What matters is getting the rest of his people here and sorting out living arrangements at their new home. What matters is getting that life Rick was talking about building going.

Rick is so much more than his thoughts. He can figure this shit out later. And in the meantime, if something happens between himself and Negan, so be it.

Rick damn near jumps into the sky when Negan clears his throat out of the blue. He’s been so caught up in his own wandering thoughts that Negan’s presence has momentarily gone unnoticed. But now that Rick’s skin is prickling and his heart racing from shock, he’s back in the present. He finds himself face-to-face with wide hazel eyes, and Negan looks if he’s on the verge of snapping his fingers in front of Rick’s face to get his attention.

“What?” Rick unintentionally barks.

“Fucking seriously?” Negan snorts. “I’ve been talking to you for like five minutes solid and you’re just over here spacing out.”

Rick shrugs. “Sorry. Guess I just got a lot to think about.”

Negan isn’t angry. If anything, he looks relieved to have Rick’s attention back. He just shifts his weight a bit, backs up, and puts his hands on his hips. Rick wonders when Negan stopped carrying Lucille around everywhere, and why the image doesn’t look strange to him. The bat is propped up next to the door. It’s safe, but Negan used to hold onto it every single second, like it was a trophy. His most prized intimidation tactic.

He’s apparently decided he’s got no reason to intimidate Rick, which is comforting.

Maybe Negan _has_ done a little bit of changing.

“Yeah, okay.” Negan concedes. “I can get behind that. We’ve had a busy past couple of days.”

“And it’s not gonna stop any time soon.” Rick agrees. He crosses past Negan and moves to lean against the rails at the edge of the tower. He motions out to the vast prison yard. “I’m thinkin’ this place could be a farm. We can raise animals, grow a garden. Everyone could do their part, and we could put someone on fence duty. Take shifts pickin’ off walkers through the fence--let us know if we start gettin’ a herd. There’s room for Carl and the new baby to play. This could be it, Negan.” He turns, faces Negan, and finds himself wrapped up in the other man all over again.

Negan kisses him with the same passion as he did the day before. He’s deliberate and slow and hungry. He’s got his hands on the rail on either side of Rick’s body, his chest flat against Rick’s, mouth open and needy on the smaller man’s own.

In a brief display of almost bitter humor, Rick amuses himself with the thought that maybe Negan’s mouth is why he’s got so many wives. He’s so...goddamn _good_ at what he’s doing that it doesn’t take much for Rick to come apart in his grip. He’s undoubtedly getting turned on, and even though he’s too numb with elation right now to tell, he’s sure Negan can feel him straining his pants against his thigh.

He’s proven right when he feels those lips curve into a smirk on his own. Negan chuckles into the kiss, and then breaks away. When he pulls back, Rick sees that his eyes have gone at least three shades darker with arousal.

“...What was that all for?” Rick laughs, noticing a bit of depth to his own voice from their heated moment.

“You just…” Negan’s just about panting, and Rick can’t help but mentally compare him to a feral animal. “You paint a picture in your head. You know what you’re gonna do with this place already--you’ve probably got it all lined out in your mind. A man with a plan. You’ve got no fucking idea how arousing that shit is.”

It’s because of initiative? Negan’s turned on by Rick’s initiative?

Not that he has much time to think about it right now anyway, because in an instant, Negan’s back on him. His mouth is on Rick’s, and then on his jaw, and his throat, before he sinks his teeth into the crook of Rick’s neck and sucks hard.

Rick outright moans. He damn near collapses against the railing, palms he didn’t recall getting sweaty fumbling aimlessly on the metal. Not that it matters, though, because Negan’s got him. The larger man’s arms are around him, helping to hold him upright, so Rick doesn’t bother trying too hard to stand up straight. He focuses more on tipping his head sideways, giving Negan plenty of room to keep sucking on a spot that apparently has a direct line to his crotch.

“Goddamn it, Rick Fucking Grimes.” Negan groans hotly against Rick’s skin. “I want to fuck you so badly. Can you picture it?”

Rick doesn’t say a damned word. For once, he just relishes in Negan running his mouth. The man’s got a way with words right now. With his hands, and his mouth, and his fucking _everything_ , and Rick, despite his conflicting thoughts earlier, can’t bring himself to interrupt a lick of it.

“Just think about it, baby.” Negan’s tongue flattens out over what’s undoubtedly a hickey on Rick’s neck by now. “I could take you right here--fuck you so hard you’ve got rail-shaped bruises on your ass. How good would it feel to have me buried inside you? I bet you sound _damn_ good singing my name like the fucking gospel…”

Negan apparently has no fucking clue that Rick’s already mentally singing his name like the fucking gospel. In reality, he can’t remember a single time he’s ever actively fantasized about having anyone’s dick inside him, but right now...damn.

“We’re not doin’ it out here.” Rick laughs breathily, because he can picture one of two things happening. Either he and Negan are going to get so caught up in frantically getting it on against the rails and Rick’s going to flop right over and plummet to his death without even getting off first, or someone’s going to choose right then to arrive and see Rick getting screwed on top of a guard tower. The last thing he wants is for his people’s mental image of him to be his bare ass from then on.

But before Negan can be too crestfallen about it, Rick quickly speaks up. “Just get inside the door there.”

Inside the door atop the guard tower is a small room, but it’s big enough that Negan and Rick have got plenty of wall to take care of business on.

The mood is totally different from how it was last night. Unlike the slow, deliberate, reassuring intimacy that had filled the air in that cell, all there is is heat right now. The heat of Negan pressing into Rick with his back against the wall, and of his tongue on Rick’s, his fingers working open the smaller man’s shirt. It’s needy and sexy and just on the right side of rough, the way Negan’s hands roam across Rick’s chest, how his thumbs brush his nipples and his blunt nails scrape across the sensitive, untouched skin of Rick’s abdomen. He arches off the wall, grits his teeth, and hisses a sharp intake of breath.

“God, you should fucking see yourself right now.” Negan all-but moans. “Fucking goddamned gorgeous, that’s what you are. When you show your teeth like that…lordy, the things you do to me.”

“Quit talkin’.” Rick gasps, even though he frankly doesn’t mind what Negan has to say.

Negan just chuckles and drops down to his knees. Rick feels the heat of his mouth kissing and sucking just below his navel, and he’s certain Negan can feel him shudder into the contact. He jumps when he hears the pop of Negan opening his belt and jeans, and then cool air swells around him. His cock springs free from his clothes, and even though he knows he’s been getting turned on, he hadn’t realized he was at full mast already.

When Negan whistles, Rick bursts into breathy laughter.

“What?” Negan scoffs. “Can’t admire you a little?” Rick looks down at him just in time to see him lick his lips and turn his gaze up to him. “You sure don’t seem to mind, seeing as you’re pointing right at me.”

“God, Negan.” Rick groans, and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s got a fistful of Negan’s hair and is pulling him closer to his aching erection. “You’re ruinin’ the moment with talk like that. Just _do_ it, already.”

He sees Negan raise both eyebrows, clearly accepting of his challenge, and then before he knows it, Negan’s got a mouthful of him and is trying to take in more. Rick immediately moves to brace himself back against the wall, because _Jesus_ , it already feels so good. It’s honestly been a long fucking time since he last had his dick in anyone’s mouth, let alone Lori’s, and Negan actually seems to know what he’s doing. There’s the gentle friction of Negan’s tongue on the underside, the heat and wetness of his mouth, and when the man bobs backward, he actually _sucks_ , which has Rick legitimately battling against the urge to drop both hands down into his hair and start fucking his mouth like there’s no damned tomorrow.

Not that it matters, anyway. Negan’s got Rick right where he wants him, and Rick, with all his focus on real-world issues and an undoubtedly sex-starved body, isn’t going to last long. He wants to, but he knows he’s gonna be putty before he fucking knows it.

And he is. All weak-kneed and moaning, hips bucking shamelessly into Negan’s mouth, he loses himself. Damn near drops down onto the ground. Negan stops him, though. He pulls back, swallows, and wipes his mouth.

Rick doesn’t even have time to be embarrassed, because soon enough, Negan’s got his mouth back on Rick’s, and they’re kissing so heatedly that even the afterglow can’t obscure Rick’s determination for more, more, more Negan. He can taste himself on Negan's wandering tongue, and combined with the sensation of the man's fingers gliding downward past his groin and down between his legs, he's about to lose his mind.

In all honesty, Rick hadn't planned on this happening today. He hadn't really known what was going to happen, but if someone had suggested he was going to be screwing with Negan in a guard tower, he'd have contemplated laughing in their faces. Maybe he'd have cleaned up the cells a little more, or he and Negan would have planned what they were going to do with this prison. But full-on sex? He hadn't expected it.

But soon enough, here he is, his back against a wall and Negan buried deep inside of him. Negan is strong to be holding Rick up like he is and still able to focus on the task of fucking him.

And he sounds damn good, too. Negan's curse words are about the only verbal response he gives, but he grunts and growls and offers a pointed thrust or two that has Rick damn near losing his mind all over again. He's overstimulated, but in the best way possible. He's already hard again, and with the way Negan's fucking him right now, he may be well on his way to losing it all over again.

Negan's grip on Rick's thighs is bruising, and with every angled thrust, the wall on Rick's back pulls at his skin, undoubtedly leaving marks. It's everything Rick can do to keep a tight grip around Negan's shoulders, his face buried in his neck, tongue and teeth worshipping the skin there in silent appreciation for every movement he makes.

“Negan…” Rick pants.

“Oh, fuck…” Negan growls. “What is it, baby? You feel good?”

Rick’s almost beyond words, which is damn near embarrassing. Negan’s already gotten him off once, and here he is, about to lose it again? Goddamn, this guy is magical. No fucking wonder he’s got more than one wife and an intense penchant for bragging.

“Yeah...god, yeah.” Rick manages, though, and as if thanking Negan for asking, he pulls back from the larger man’s neck and kisses him on the mouth. He’s damn near beside himself, but he still manages to speak up. “You’re so good, Negan. Don’t stop.”

Negan moans outright at that--a low, rumbling moan that sends sparks of arousal shooting all the way down Rick’s spine and straight to his groin in time with a rough thrust right against that spot inside him. Rick throws his head back so hard that it collides painfully with the wall, but either it’s a good kind of pain or he’s too caught up in the moment to care, because it only serves to make their little tryst even more intense.

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.” Negan growls back. “You feel so good, Rick. You’re so fucking tight, I could do this all day and never get tired of it.”

Rick lets out a breathy, worn-out laugh. “Not me...I’m already close again.”

Negan just smirks. “You’re so cute with that honesty of yours.”

And then they’re back at it. Negan’s gone silent, and Rick’s panting, gasping, borderline whimpering Negan’s name as they push closer and closer to the edge. Rick finishes before Negan, but Negan’s right there. He pulls out, and Rick weakly shuffles out of the way just in time for him to lose it right up against the wall in waves. He hisses pleasantly, stroking out his orgasm, and when he finishes, he drops to the ground next to Rick.

It’s strangely reminiscent to their night back outside of that drug store. Just the two men, relaxing against one another. They’re leaning shoulder-to-shoulder, and they’re just resting against the wall, working to catch their breath. It’s significantly more relaxed, as they’re not struggling to survive, and Rick actually manages a laugh.

“You sound like an old man.” He teases Negan about his heavy breathing.

“Yeah, well.” Negan shrugs. “I’m almost fucking fifty, so cut me a goddamn break.”

Rick still isn’t certain what their relationship entails, but he knows there’s at least something. Maybe they’re just friends with a hefty amount of benefits and a serious need for close contact. Hell, maybe they don't need to put a name to it. So long as they're comfortable with it, it can just be, well, whatever the hell they want to be.

Rick doesn't have the energy to dwell on it like he was earlier. Right now, what they've got going on is plenty. Rick gets back to scouting outside, and Negan curls his arms around him from behind. They point to sections of the prison yard and discuss what could be there. How much potential the place has.

Rick's content. He and Negan sink back into their bunk together when their shift ends. They make out languidly, hands roaming. Rick peels Negan's jacket off his shoulders and kisses the spots he made red earlier. He savors the gentle rustle of Negan's hand on the back of his shirt. They don't do anything too heated--they just explore, and fall asleep tangled up in one another.

\------------------------

Everyone else arrives at the crack of dawn the next morning. Dwight is quick to wake Rick and Negan up, and Rick finds it a little surprising when he doesn't question the two half naked men curled up together in their bunk.

Either way, the greetings are quick, but meaningful. Rick hugs Carl and Lori tightly, and the tour of the prison begins. It's strange, how everyone responds with excitement over being able to sleep in prison cells, but it's also heartwarming. People pick rooms, all smiles and bubbling conversation. To those who are able to listen, Rick tells them all the ideas he's come up with regarding the prison.

The entire cell block is all hustle and bustle and socializing. Beth coos excitedly about having more space to move around, and Glenn and Maggie decide to go on a walk together, to see what they can of the place. Carl and Shane explore the yard, where Rick can see his little boy finally getting a chance to run free.

He finds Hershel and Lori standing just outside the prison walls, looking out over the massive yard. Lori appears so different, even after just two weeks of Rick being away from her. She seems further along, and her forearm cradles the top of her belly almost affectionately. She bears a calm smile while she and Hershel talk among one another. She's okay. She's been doing alright. Rick is relieved.

“What do you think?” Rick asks as he approaches the two. Hershel and Lori both smile, before Lori exhales a breathy laugh.

“I never thought I'd consider a prison an upgrade from a nice farm house.” She jokes, and Hershel nods.

“Now, I'll admit I had my doubts when Shane showed up buzzin' about this place.” Hershel starts. “He kept talkin’ about ‘the prison’ this and ‘the prison’ that with a smile on his face, like it was the best thing to happen to us. Guess I kept imaginin’ shackles and jail cells. Never thought I'd see a home.”

“I can understand that.” Rick chuckles. “Can't say I had any long-term prison-related plans in my head before I ran into this place, either. But we can build off of this. It can be our home.”

Rick sees Negan exchange friendly hugs with the rest of his Saviors out on the yard. They're all just as excited as Rick and his own people. Everyone has long-since chosen a cell to sleep in, and now, they're all starting to settle in.

This is it.

This is their new life. And Rick is determined not to let it fall apart again. At present, he’s unaware of what’s going to happen next—of the little community not far from here. It’s an innocent enough community, and at first glance, Rick might not pay it much mind.

But one day, it’s going to cost him almost everything.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was sort of a prologue more than anything. I'll draw into the plot more with the next chapter. Consider this my 'testing the waters' phase, as I tend to write No Zombie AUs, ahaha.
> 
> Hope you guys like this fic!


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